


Facing Life - The Backyard Tales Act 1

by TheGJ90



Category: Backyard Sports (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Family, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Lies, Origin Story, Sports, Story Arc, Teamwork, Truth, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGJ90/pseuds/TheGJ90
Summary: An assortment of stories that chronicle the birth of Backyard Sports, its rise to fame, and the events that played out during the lives of the children who helped make it what it is today.Act 1 - Origins of the FoundersBefore eighteen children worked together and with their families to found Backyard Sports, they each had their own challenges to tackle. This first set of tales depict how they handled those challenges, with their triumphs and choices leading them to a shared event that would change their lives forever.





	1. El Arma Secreta Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes folks, this will be a series of tales dedicated to the Backyard Sports video game franchise!
> 
> My goal is to tell the stories about these cooky kids that I wish were told back during the series' heyday.
> 
> 'Sugar Pop's Fiery Discovery' and 'A Father's Love' are both a part of this series, but because I had come up with this crazy idea after posting those tales, they are physically separate stories according to Archive. Don't worry folks, I'll make sure you all know where they stand in the timeline when it comes time to tell you all about that.
> 
> With that said, here is how the series will be laid out:
> 
> Act 1 - Origins of the Founders
> 
> Act 2 - ???
> 
> Act 3 - ???
> 
> The names of acts 2 and 3 will be revealed as we reach each one. I am considering doing an Act 4, depending on how the other Acts play out story-wise (will I even need an Act 4?).
> 
> I WILL NOT HOLD ANY PART OF THIS SERIES HOSTAGE FOR REVIEWS, VIEWS, AND SO ON!!!
> 
> Act 1 will contain tales that will help you all get to know many of the characters from the games, eventually leading to an event that will answer an important question:
> 
> What in the world caused the Backyard Sports club to be created in the first place?
> 
> TAKE NOTE: I will adhere to the games' canon as much as possible, out of respect to what the developers had envisioned long ago. The only changes and/or additions that I make, if any, will be those that strengthen the stories that I am telling here. I am essentially writing an AU for Backyard Sports that uses much of the games' canon as a foundation.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much I enjoy writing them! Each one will be released when its ready, not before.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pablo Sanchez, now the most famous member of Backyard Sports, was not always a master athlete. Before he made his name in athletics, he was a quiet kid at the local playground who refused to say his name to anyone. His choice to stand up to a local bully in defense of a younger Vinny the Gooch, however, would lead him to a memorable confrontation with the mean-spirited jerk. With a bit of help from his new friend and a hesitant teacher, Pablo’s battle with the bully would earn him the respect of his peers and the nickname that would become synonymous with the boy himself and his legend: The Secret Weapon.
> 
> Given the importance of this story, there is no one better suited to telling it than the Gooch himself, the boy who witnessed it play out from the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the first of many stories in this series features The Secret Weapon himself! Its going to be a long tale, and for good reason: This story plays a vital role in setting the stage for many of the other stories to come.
> 
> It should be noted that while this one depicts the beginning of Pablo's legend, he is not the only character who gets their time to shine.
> 
> After all, no legend can be made with just one person.

            The Gooch has heard from the grapevine that you want to hear a story, am I right? Of course, I am, but don’t you worry, because I am happy to oblige you. Now, you know about Backyard Sports, right? That kids athletics club that is the talk of the town these days? Well, a club like that was not built in a day. The Gooch knows that from personal experience, because I, like so many other people, have helped it grow with my own two hands. Whenever I think of that club, there is one fact about it that comes to mind before any other; the adults may do their good work behind the scenes to keep the club afloat, but it is the kids playing their hearts out who give Backyard Sports its heart, and every kid has a story to tell. Heck, even the Gooch has a story of his own, one that I share with three other kids of note. If you want to hear it, then take a seat and listen up. Now like any good story, it needs a strong title and I can’t think of a better one than this;

**_El Arma Secreta_ **

            It began over a year before Backyard Sports was an actual thing. Back then, the neighborhood was, in many ways, the same as it is today. Sure, it did not have a large sports club that kids flocked to for fun and competition, but there were still plenty of children running around the parks and playgrounds, having fun in every way that they could think of. For many of us kids in fact, those places were safe havens where we could have fun and be ourselves. Of course, the grown-ups made sure to keep a watchful eye on us, but they usually did this from a distance, so that we could enjoy ourselves without them breathing down our necks. That is, as long as we did not hurt ourselves, or each other for that matter. If any of that crud happened, then the grown-ups, our parents especially, would come rushing in to help at the drop of a hat! While it is true that many of us kids played games while out on those parks and playgrounds, some of them had their fun by chatting it up with their friends. If you were there and listened closely, you could hear the juicy gossip being spread around by them, especially by the teenagers. There were also other kids who, like yours truly, enjoyed their time off from school, homework, and chores by finding a comfy spot to sit on away from everyone else, kicking back, and watching the friendly chaos unfold. That is not to say that The Gooch did not enjoy playing with others, for I definitely did that from time to time. But more often than not, I found more enjoyment in just chilling out on my butt, taking in the peaceful scenery as I watched those little ones laugh, talk, and play without fear. Of course, no safe haven is immune to troublemakers.

            The one that my parents took me to back then was Playground Commons, a lovely area with a very well-kept playground that had all of the stuff that any kid in their right mind would look for in a place like this; monkey bars, a teeter-totter, a slide (not a metal one thankfully, those things can burn your butt on hot Summer days), a rainbow-colored jungle-gym, a swing set with three seats, and more than enough sand to build with all over the ground. A few bleachers were scattered about along the sides of the playground, near the tall metal fence that surrounded the whole area. There was a vacant lot next to the area on the eastern side, but it was private property, so no smart kid would try to go there without getting in trouble. The Gooch loved going to playgrounds, but this one was my favorite, mainly because there was this one bleacher off to the far western side of the area that the other kids usually avoided due to being distracted by their fun, which made it perfect for relaxing on. I would come to this spot every time I came here, without fail. The other kids probably knew what I was doing, but were too busy doing their own things to pay much attention to something like that. I was just fine with that situation, because I just wanted to relax, you know? But something happened one day while I was sitting on that bleacher, as I normally did. Remember what I said about some kids spreading gossip around? Well, I did hear bits and pieces of stuff like that from time to time, but I did not pay any mind to such things. Gossip can be such a bother, so I preferred to ignore it. This time however, seeing two girls gossiping in front of me, within earshot mind you, had caught my attention, and not just because of the topic of discussion.

One of them was this little lady with short red hair, white skin, and a brown dress. I did not know her at all. Her friend, on the other hand, was a different story altogether! This girl was about as tall as her friend, I’d say about half a head taller than me. She had dark brown hair that was combed behind her head, brown skin, wore a light-blue shirt, matching pants, a slick pair of white sneakers, and a pair of plain-looking light-blue gloves. There was only one kid I knew of at the time who wore gloves to a playground; Stephanie Morgan! Back then, she and I were good pals, and I had never seen her gossip out in public before, and yet here it was, happening before my eyes! So, you can bet good money that the Gooch was interested in what was being said by these two people, especially by Steph. Yes, I know I said that gossip can be a bother, but I had put that aside out of curiosity and an understanding that whatever my friend was saying had to be interesting at least. This is what I could hear from the moment that I decided to listen to their chat more closely, I could hear the frustration in their voices as they spoke;

“It’s been months, and Jimmy _still_ hasn’t gotten in trouble?!”

“Sorry Steph, I tried to tell my parents, but they won’t believe me.”

“… Did he get to them too?”

“I don’t know, girl. I hope not.”

“I overheard him talking to one of the adults here yesterday about how he _loves_ kids.”

“More like he loves to make kids cry. Did he bother you again, Steph?”

 “Not yet… What are we going to do about him?

            Hearing all of this was enough to help me understand the situation; apparently some bully named Jimmy was picking on kids and getting away with it. This discovery angered me, and the fact that one of his targets was my friend angered me even more. It did not help that Stephanie had a look of pain and sadness on her face as she talked about Jimmy’s antics, which only added to my anger. So, I decided to get up off of my butt, carefully walk past the girls without them seeing me, and investigate the playground to see if I could find Jimmy and stop him, the image of Steph’s sadness vivid in my mind. The plan that I had hatched in my brain as I walked was to quietly catch Jimmy in the act of bullying a kid and sneak my way over to the nearest adult to point them in his direction before he could find out what was going on. This way, I could help bring this jerk to justice and give my dear friend a surprise she would never forget! It took a bit of careful searching without letting anyone know that I was even looking for something, but I managed to hear the soft, threatening tone of a teenaged boy coming from the eastern side of the large office building that stood tall over the playground from the north. I figured it was Jimmy who was there for two reasons; Firstly, I heard that tone coming from a spot that was along the building’s east side wall, conveniently out of sight and earshot of everyone else on the playground. Lastly, I could also hear the terrified whimpering of a younger boy who was about ready to cry coming from the same location. I slowly and quietly walked up as close to them as I could, with the fence being the thing standing between me and seeing the fiasco happen up close. I could have moved to a spot at the fence where I could see them both, but I did not want Jimmy to see me. Thankfully, I was close enough to hear their voices clearly. Jimmy’s voice was deep, rough, and oozed with ill-intentions. The other voice was that of a frightened boy who had a slight wheezing sound in his breath. I had arrived just as Jimmy was delivering a rather mean-spirited insult to the poor kid;

“What is with that wheezy voice of yours? I should start calling Little Wheezy, sound good to you?”

The boy who I simply refuse to refer to as Little Wheezy responded with a shaky voice;

“N-No. That d-does not sound good to me at all.”

Jimmy was not phased by this at all as he responding in a mocking tone;

“I’ll call you that anyway. Little Wheezy! Little Wheezy!”

I could hear his target sniffing back his tears as Jimmy kept at it. As much as I wanted to stand up for him, the fence was in the way, and I did not want to make noise that would get me caught by his bully. So, I tried to slowly turn around and walk to one of the adults, as planned. Unfortunately, one of the boys in the playground bumped into me by accident after I walked two steps back the way I came, which caused me to yelp too loudly for my own good. The boy apologized before running off to play, allowing me to turn around to notice that Jimmy had heard the commotion and was running along the fence to get into the playground. Without hesitation, I turned back around and ran for the nearest adult that I could find as fast as my legs could manage. But Jimmy was faster, fast enough to catch me by putting his right hand on my right shoulder before I could get anyone’s attention.

            I slowly turned around to face him, and oh my goodness, he was a giant of a teenager! Taller than every other kid in the playground, in the whole neighborhood for that matter, and with big muscles to match, Jimmy wore a brown short-sleeved shirt with one large white fist raised upwards on the front, blue jeans with holes that showed his knees, and an admittingly nice-looking blue & white trucker hat that covered most of his black hair, save for the left and right sides of his head. He looked at me with a face that appeared to be friendly, but one good look at his hazel eyes was enough to tell me that he was as angry as can be. Just looking him in the eye was enough to send a terrible chill down my spine, with all of my instincts telling me to run as far away from him as possible. His iron grip on my shoulder would not allow that, however, as he lowered his head over to my left ear and whispered in a menacing tone that I remember to this day;

“Rat me out, little brat, and I will make your life Hell.”

He then let go of my shoulder and said to me out loud in a ‘friendly’ voice that was clearly fake to my ears;

“It was nice talking to you, kid. I hope that we can be friends.”

After that, he walked away in silence, with a devious smile on his face that I saw for a moment as he turned away. One of the nearby adults responded to Jimmy’s words by noting how good he is with kids. Clearly, none of them had heard what he had whispered to me. I was frozen, frozen in fear and shock. Fear of a bully who was taller and stronger than me, and shocked over the fact that he could hide his antics so well, that the adults saw him as a good man who would do no harm to anyone. None of them believed the kids who he targeted at the time, simply because, in my mind, he was older than them, and the adults, in their minds, knew Jimmy Knuckles enough to believe that he would never bully anyone. But they did not know him. Jimmy knew that, and he loved to use that fact to his benefit. It did not take me long to truly understand this on my own, even in my frozen state. I mean, what I heard from Stephanie and her friend helped me understand a little, but to experience this problem myself was another thing entirely! At that point, the Gooch became too afraid to tell any adult about what had happened, because who among them would believe a snot-nosed brat over a teenager?

            As the days passed, I became one of Jimmy’s frequent targets for his cruelty, probably to make sure that I would not blab about him. He called me insulting names (including four-eyes, shorty, bratty-pants, and a favorite of his, Vinnie the Weeny), bragged on and on about how he was better than me at everything, discouraged me from doing anything fun, all without letting the adults hear him. One would expect a bully like to him to hurt me physically or steal my things, but he was not like any typical bully. He never stole any of my stuff and, as shocking as this may sound, he never once attacked me physically. No punches, no kicks, no grabs or throws, he didn’t even try to pull on my hair or smack me with a weapon! I could not, for the life of me, figure out why this was the case. I was certainly not alone in this, for none of his targets could solve this mystery either. I had learned of this from Steph at school during lunch-hour, after I had told her about what had happened between Jimmy and myself. The adults would not listen, but I knew that she would, since we both suffered at his hands. She made it clear to me that she wanted to stop Jimmy, not just for the two of us, but for every other kid who Jimmy had hurt, and from what she had learned, we were many in number. After she had been bullied, Stephanie had made a point to find and talk to anyone else who had the misfortune of encountering Jimmy. Based on what she had learned, eight kids were targeted by him, Stephanie and myself included. She refused to mention them by name, even to me, because they did not want other bullies to find out about their predicament, out of fear of them being picked on by them over it. As frightened as I was of him, I still wanted to stop him too. We just did not know how to do it. Heck, we did not even have the guts to stand up to him, and who could blame us? But as the saying goes, something had to give. Someone had to put their foot down. One day, someone did.

            It happened at Playground Commons, five days after my run-in with Jimmy. I was sitting at my favorite bleacher when he decided to have another one of his ‘talks’ with me. He stood right in front of me as he began softly hurling insults in my direction. I was angry at him, but too frightened to talk back at him. I looked down at the ground, feeling ashamed at myself for being too chicken to confront my bully. I could not even look him in the eye. This egged him on even further as he continued his insult-spree. But then, I heard a rush of footsteps coming towards us, but I was too dejected to react to that. But I did notice Jimmy suddenly becoming silent right after the footsteps stopped, the shadow of their source covering the ground below my face. I slowly looked back up, wondering what could possibly get him to shut up, even for a moment. What I had seen was a person, a boy roughly the same size as the Gooch who wore blue pants, white sneakers, a yellow short-sleeved shirt with white sleeves, and a large yellow baseball cap that made it impossible to tell if he had hair on his head at all. His arms were raised to stretch straight out from both sides of his body, as if he was shielding me from my bully. I was understandably surprised to see that someone, anyone really, would have the guts to stand up to Jimmy like this. Speaking of the muscular jerk, I looked up at him to see that he was visibly shocked at what he was seeing. Obviously, he did not expect someone to act this gutsy over his antics. But after a taking a breath while looking the boy in the eye, he then gave him a threat with a soft, deep, annoyed voice;

“Now you had better walk on out of here, little runt. Unless you want me to give you a hard time too.”

The boy stood completely still, like a small statue, without uttering a single word. I wanted to tell him to get out of there before he could hurt him too, but Jimmy’s presence was enough to keep me silent out of sheer horror over the consequences. The bully’s annoyance became increasingly prevalent on his face as he threatened again with that same voice as before, only with more annoyance in his tone;

“Didn’t you hear me the first time, runt? Walk on out of here, now.”

The boy remained unmoving and silent. I was still surprised by what I was seeing, but I was also starting to realize something. Here was this little guy, the same size as me, standing against a bully who was as mean as he was smart, for the sake of someone else, and what was the Gooch doing? Nothing. I was too frightened to stand with him, and that… oh, that made me furious at myself. Furious enough to speak up without even noticing what I was doing, with a voice filled with five days’ worth of pain in every word that I uttered;

“He heard you plainly, Jimmy. He just doesn’t like what you have to say.” My big mouth caused Jimmy to go from annoyed at the boy to angry at us both, who then spoke to us with a furiously soft voice;

“So, Vinnie the Weeny has decided to grow a spine, eh? Fine then, I’ll deal with you too idiots later.”

He then stormed off in a silent huff, leaving me surprised at myself and at the kid in front of me over what we had done in the face of danger.

After taking a few deep breaths to collect myself, I then spoke to my defender with a shaken, but friendly voice;

“The Gooch thanks you for your help, but he’ll be coming for us both now, and you won’t like it one bit.”

As if responding to my words, he turned around to look at me, his face looking serious for a moment before turning into a warm smile, the kind that can calm a person’s mind in a matter of seconds, know what I mean? It certainly calmed mine with ease as I got a good look at his appearance. He had brown eyes and the front of his hat was facing his right side. He also had a pudgy belly that poked out from under his shirt, a fact that I chose not to mention to avoid upsetting him. He then nodded his head at me slightly with that smile still etched on his face, turned around, and began to walk away. The Gooch was not looking to let him walk off like that however, for this little kid had just saved my butt from a bully who seemed unstoppable until he showed up from out of nowhere. This meant, in my mind, that I could call him my friend, and friends talk to each other.

           I got up from the bleacher in a hurry and rushed over to his left side to chat it up with him some more, the tone in my voice becoming calmer and more cheerful over time as we walked together;

“Now hold up! You should know that by defending me back there, you have made a friend in the Gooch.”

He looked over to me and nodded his head again, that smile refusing to leave his face as if it were glued onto it as I then politely requested to him;

“It would be nice if you could give me your name. My name is Vinnie.”

He stopped moving and turned his head to look around the playground for a moment. I stopped moving to watch what he was doing. Everyone around us was going about their business, too busy to have noticed what had just happened. He then turned his head to face forward and walked off. Before I could react, my parents called out from far behind me; it was time to go home. I looked over to them for a moment and then looked back over to my new friend, only to find that he was nowhere to be seen.

 _“Heh, I’ll get your name yet, pal.”_ , I thought to myself with a small smile on my face as I walked over to my parents to head home.

            The very next day, I managed to catch Stephanie walking down our school’s hallway between classes. Most of the students had already found their classes by then, so it was a pretty empty hall. I told her what had happened, and let me tell you; she was stunned!

“Someone actually stood up to Jimmy?!”, she exclaimed loudly. She took a moment to cool down before continuing;

“That is so cool! I can’t blame you for being so scared, Vinny. I would have been too, if I were in your shoes.”

She gently placed her right hand on my left shoulder as a show of support, one that I appreciated. She then asked me excitedly;

“Did you see him again?”

“Not yet,” I said calmly in response;

“I’m not sure if he even goes to our school. That little guy is a mystery, that’s for sure.”

Stephanie nodded in agreement as she spoke;

“I hear you. Oh man, just wait until I tell the others about this!”

She then ran off in the direction of her class before I could blink. I figured she was referring to the other kids that Jimmy had bullied. I was right, because I would soon learn from Stephanie that they were all happy as can be over what that brave little boy had done for me. Thanks to her choice to spread the good word, her friends then told their friends about it, a pattern that repeated until many of the kids both in school and at Playground Commons started gossiping about it. For once, I got to hear the kind of gossip that was music to my ears when I was sitting on favorite bleacher later that day after school. Well, it was mostly music, as I would quickly learn while listening in on what the kids were saying;

“You heard the news, someone stopped Jimmy from bullying someone!”

“Seriously? I didn’t think anyone could stop that jerk.”

“Why didn’t you stop him? You were there when it happened.”

“We were all there, man, but I was too afraid to stand up to him.”

“I think we all were… but that kid who did though, so brave!”

“Yeah, I heard he stopped Jimmy without saying a word.”

“I know, right? He didn’t even punch the big guy! Jimmy just walked away!”

“I wish I was that brave, then I would tell the grown-ups about him.”

“But would they believe any of us?”

“Doubt it, Jimmy has them all fooled.”

Their words made it clear to the Gooch what was going on; the little boy’s bravery had brought joy to many children, but still, none of them had the guts to stand up to Jimmy, let alone speak out about his behavior. This did not sit well with me, as I thought to myself;

_“I think these kids need more of a push to get them to help us.”_

Just as I had finished my thought, I noticed on the corner of my right eye the memorable appearance of a certain trucker hat. I immediately looked over to the right to see that, off in the distance, at the southeastern corner of the playground fence, Jimmy Knuckles was at it again.

            His target this time was a little boy with blonde hair, white skin, a white dress shirt with a blue necktie, blue pants, and white sneakers with blue laces. I recognized this kid as Reese Worthington, one of my classmates. A smarter kid than most with a fun sense of humor and an extensive vocabulary, but from what I was seeing, he was one of the eight kids who Jimmy picked on regularly, which definitely explains why he wasn’t as fun-loving as usual in our class. Jimmy was not attempting to physically hurt him or steal his stuff, as was expected of him. But I knew that he was up to no good. The sense of goodwill urged me to help Reese by interrupting that jerk’s dumb take on fun, but my fear of being hurt again froze my legs and feet in place. But then I remember when I found the courage to talk back at Jimmy, the thought of which weakened that fear enough for me to slowly walk up the two of them. Before I could take four steps forward, however, that silent boy in the yellow hat came running to them from the crowds of kids playing around behind Jimmy, who was standing in front of Reese, who had his back up against the fence while shaking in fear. The boy stopped to stand between them, turned to face Jimmy, and stretched his arms straight out to the sides, just as he did with me! I stopped moving right then and there, knowing perfectly well that at this point, Reese was in good hands. But I decided to watch the festivities play out, as the idea of seeing Jimmy Knuckles be denied a chance to be mean to younger kids was too enjoyable for me to pass up. I smiled as I watched the large teenager’s mouth move. Clearly, he was trying to quietly tell the kid to get away, but I was too far away to hear any of them speak. As I expected, the boy stood his ground, refusing to move an inch. I looked more closely at Reese and I could tell, even from my vantage point, that he was as shocked over what he was seeing as I was when this happened to me. But something else happened that was different from before; someone else had noticed what was going on this time. I saw to my left that one of the kids who was playing in the sand while sitting just outside of the crowd behind Jimmy, a little girl with black hair that covered the back of her neck and brown skin, had gotten up and started talking to the other children. While she talked, I noticed that she was pointing directly at him! She started with the older kid in front of her, who then helped her tell another nearby kid about what was happening. They then told another one, and another one, and needless to say, the whole situation quickly snowballed, as many of the kids in the crowd quickly turned their heads over to Jimmy, Reese, and the little boy himself to see what was going on! Bless that little girl’s heart, because if she never spoke up, I would not have had the pleasure of seeing my bully turning around to see the crowd looming closer to him and the two other boys, his legs shaking a little out of sheer nervousness. At this point, Jimmy had no other choice but to walk away before the adults could notice the commotion, leaving behind a smiling boy and a relieved Reese.

            The Gooch was thrilled at this turn of events. So much so, that I ran over to those two and gave the brave boy my verbal support in excitement-induced celebration;

“Hahaha! The Gooch thanks you for helping out another good person!”

I then turned over to Reese, who was still looking relieved, even though he did look away from me out of what appeared to be nerves. I calmed myself down enough to show him that he had my support too by telling him so in a soft, gentle voice;

“That kid who defended you is a good one, and I am a good one too.”

I then raised my right hand as an offer to shake his. He looked at it for a moment before slowing reaching out to shake it, a small smile appearing on his face as he did so. After shaking hands, I turned back over to talk with our new friend some more, who was looking at us with that calming smile from before. Reese walked past me to stand in front of him, he was just a little bit taller than his defender. He then raised his right hand to give him the same handshake that I had just given to the blond kid and said in a polite, slightly shaken tone;

“Th-thank you for standing up for me, sir.”

The boy did not hesitate to accept Reese’s offer. After the hand-shaking was done, he then nodded his head to each of us, turned around, and walked away. The crowd of kids, all of whom was watching this scene play out, made room for him to move through them easily. I could hear a little girl giggling happily as he left. As far as I could tell, many of them knew, or at least suspected, that this kid was the one that stood up for me not too long ago, and they figured it best to let him be. At that moment, I didn’t chase after him this time, instead I chose to let him be too. He had earned that much, at least.

            The next day was on the weekend, so that meant no school for any of us children. This also meant more time at Playground Commons for me, which gave me the perfect opportunity to give Stephanie some more goodness. She explained that she wasn’t at the playground the day before, due to having to help care for a family member who had fallen ill. I understood this wholeheartedly, because I was raised to put family first before most things. Before I could tell her about what she had missed, she told me in a rather jovial voice;

“So, I hear that our little friend has stuck again.”

Apparently, the gossip mill had beat me to the punch, as she then explained to me what she had heard about and wanted to hear it from me too, since I was a witness. I left no detail unmentioned, much to her joy.

“Does that kid even know what fear is?”, she jokingly asked while giggling.

“Speaking of fear, it was so much fun seeing Jimmy squirm when he saw that crowd.”, I noted with a pleased smile.

Stephanie looked just as pleased at the thought of that happening to him as she also noted excitedly;

“Oh, when I see that little girl who spoke up, I am going to give her the biggest hug ever!”

I giggled at that lovely thought as I responded in a jovial manner;

“I’ve been hearing the kids talking about what happened. The ones who did not know about Jimmy’s antics, including the teenagers, are getting curious about him.”

Stephanie laughed joyfully upon hearing this as she then decided to turn her head and body to look around the playground. As she turned back to face me, she asked out of curiosity;

“I hate to ask, but where is Jimmy today?”

“You don’t see him anywhere here?”, I asked in return while feeling pretty darn confused.

“No, I don’t see him at all.”, she answered, sounding just as confused as I was as she continued;

“Odd, he comes to the playground every day.”

We then agreed to each other that it was best to keep our eyes open for him while we had our fun. Amazingly, there was no sign of our bully anywhere at the playground, from the moment we started looking to the moment when we had to go home. It was the most fun day we had in months. But as I sat in the family car during the trip home, I could not help but wonder;

_“It’s not like Jimmy to not be around, even for a day. Did he get sick?”_

Another thought crossed my mind right after I finished the first one, a thought took me by surprise for a moment before I decided to entertain it;

_“Wait a moment… Did that boy, do what I think he did? Did he actually… scare Jimmy away?”_

It was a mad thought, but there it was. For the first time since I was bullied by him, I thought in my head, and felt in my heart, that he was finally stopped. I truly believed, for the rest of that day and night, that it was over, that the nameless boy with the yellow hat had stopped Jimmy Knuckles.

            I should have known better than to think of such things so soon. The next day in the weekend had come, and I was chilling on my bleacher, minding my own business. This time, however, I was not alone. Stephanie was sitting at my right side, drinking from a small box of cherry juice through a straw. I made sure to leave room on the bleacher for one more person to sit at my left side, that spot being reserved by me for the nameless kid, as a thank you for being so darn courageous and nice. Sure enough, I saw him walking over to us from halfway across the playground and waved at him to let him know where we were. He looked back with that big as heck smile of his and ran on over to us. He nodded at us as he took his seat at the bleacher, still as silent as ever. I was willing to relax in silence with him, to enjoy our newfound peace, but Stephanie could not help but verbally burst in excitement;

“I have so many questions, friend! I mean, what is your name? How are you able to take Jimmy’s crud so easily? Why are you so silent, are you a mute, or do you just not want to talk to people? How are you so gosh-darn awesome!?”

When she started talking, she had stood up while looking directly at the boy. By the time she had finished, she was standing over him with the most excited look on her face that I had seen in months. The poor kid was leaning back slightly while looking visibly taken aback by Stephanie effectively throwing a pile of questions on his lap. I decided to chime in while gently tapping her left arm in an attempt to stop her from truly flipping her lid;

“Easy there, Steph. Give the kid room to breathe, why don’t ya?”

She clearly recognized what I was getting at, for she then took a step back and apologized to him in a nervous voice;

“Sorry about that, friend. Jimmy bullied me too, in fact, I was the first kid that he targeted, as far as I know. So, when I heard that someone stood up to him when no one else would, or could…”

She silently looked away, off to her right side, while firmly holding her right arm. I understood exactly how she felt, for I knew as well as she did that fear has a habit of keeping good people from doing what is right. I looked over at the boy, who was listening to her every word with a look that screamed of calm seriousness. I turned by attention back to Stephanie as she continued, her nerves slightly less rattled;

“I knew that I had to get to know him, maybe even… earn his friendship.”

The kid responded by standing up, walking over to her, and raising his right hand to shake hers. His smile came back, allowing him to show a quiet understanding of what she was getting at. Stephanie stood still for a moment before shaking his hand while telling with relief in her voice;

“Thank you. I should introduce myself, my name is Stephanie Morgan. What’s yours?”

“Yes, what _is_ your name, little one?”

I knew that soft rough voice anywhere. We all knew it, for at that moment, we had slowly turned our heads to find Jimmy Knuckles standing next to Stephanie at her left side, his arrival completely missed by us because we were so focused on each other. I gave that young man the angriest look that I could give anyone, and I was sure that the others were doing the same thing. My fear of him was still in my head, but it was weaker than ever. He responded with a quick laugh and some words of his own, which were delivered in his indoor voice;

“Now, children, I am not here to cause you trouble.”

“I can’t imagine why.”, noted Stephanie, with a tone that was filled with fear, confidence, and a dash of anger as she then explained;

“I think it might have something to do with the fact that, thanks to you slipping up, every kid and teenager out here who does not know what your are actually like is suspicious of you.”

Jimmy gave her a scathing look that could pierce metal. It shook her up a little, which gave me the opportunity to help her out by speaking up as well. The fear inside my head begged me not to, but the goodwill in my heart was stronger this time;

“Think about it, Jimmy.”

He turned his head over to me with that same scathing look as I continued;

“They have all been talking about you, wondering if that little girl was right about you being mean to Reese. Now, no one has said anything to the adults, and we both know why.”

That last bit allowed him to show a hint of relief, which made my verbal finishing blow all the sweeter;

“But, eventually, someone is going to start talking, and there are too many people out here for you to stop.”

The look of rage in his eyes was terrifying to me back then, but upon retrospect, it was priceless! He we were, two of Jimmy’s targets, giving him some serious lip over his shenanigans. I was not sure what drove Stephanie to give him a talking-to so suddenly. But through her bravery, she was able to inspire me to do the same thing, and that was on top of my own sense of goodwill egging me own as well. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them back up as he walked closer to us, leaned forward so that his face was inches away from that of our nameless friend, and spoke in a rough, surprisingly calm whisper that sent an all-too-familiar chill down my spine as the two boys looked each other in the eye;

“How about we settle our differences through… a game.”

“Seriously?”, asked Stephanie in both confusion and annoyance.

“Yes, _Bubbles_ , a game.”, Jimmy said in response, without so much as moving his head a centimeter in her direction.

Stephanie did not like being called ‘Bubbles’ by him at all back then, as it was his favorite insulting nickname to call her. I looked at her to see that she silently expressed that distaste by keeping that angry look aimed squarely at him. I switched my attention over to Jimmy to see that he kept his eyes locked on our friend, however, so he did not notice this at all as he explained;

“I offer you a chance to face me in a Homerun Derby match, you and me, one on one.”

I was quick to look back over to Stephanie to see that she looked off to her right side again for a moment before readjusting her gaze back at him. I knew why she did this, and I’ll get to that later.

“You have seen a Baseball match before, have you?”, Jimmy asked the boy.

The little guy silently shook his head while giving him a look of anger and seriousness mixed together into a facial blend that could scare anyone else. But not Jimmy, for he smiled a little in response to him effectively saying no while saying with a hint of relief in his voice;

“No problem, all you have to do is hit the ball hard enough to send it flying over a fence. The goal is to get the most homeruns by the end of twelve rounds. Obviously, we will be taking turns hitting the ball in each round. If you win, I will swear to never bully you or anyone who you consider to be your friend, and I won't skip town either. But…”

He paused for a moment while smiling, as if reveling in the moment, before finishing;

“If I win, I can bully whoever I want to, and you can’t do anything about it.”

This offer had the word ‘trap’ written all over it in my mind. Stephanie had the same idea, for she then asked in a disbelieving tone;

“How do we know that you won’t go back on your end of the deal if our friend here wins?”

His head and eyes were as stiff as statues when he answered her question, as if he cared only about dealing with our friend and not the two of us;

“Let me make this clear to you all: he will never beat me. But if by some miracle that he does, I will fulfill my end of the deal for one reason only…”

He took a deep breath before finishing, his terrifyingly calm demeanor refusing to leave him;

“I am a man who is as good as his word.”

Now it was my turn ask Jimmy a question. I did not believe him at all, so I was asking out curiosity;

“If he refuses to play, then what?”

A devious smile crept upon his face as he explained in that same frighteningly calm voice;

“If he says no, then I will just find some other place to have fun at. Oh sure, I’ll be out of your hair, but other kids would be… bothered by me.”

He looked over to me with nothing more than his eyes as he uttered;

“Think about it, Vinny.”

I have always hated admitting this, but he was right. I looked over at Stephanie, who was looking pretty distraught over what she had heard. Jimmy would not stop being a jerk, no matter where he went, and we both knew that. Our eyes then turned to our silent friend, who’s gaze remained fixed on the eyes of our bully. Jimmy then told him calmly, that darn smile still etched on his face and his eyes aimed back at him;

“Our venue will be the abandoned stadium at the center of town. You can bring a friend or two if you like, since we will need someone to pitch. But no adults are allowed during the match. I’ll walk away if I so much as see one there, and we all know what would happen after that.”

He laughed softly to himself for a moment before finishing;

“I’ll give us a week from today to prepare. So, what do you say, you want to play ball?”

All was silent for ten whole seconds. I should know, I counted them to myself. I knew that our friend had to accept the offer for the sake of kids everywhere, but I would not dare accept it for him. Stephanie, I would learn later on, had the same idea as me. This was his choice to make, not ours, and we would accept it, even if he said no. Once the eleventh second came, the nameless boy broke his silence with a calm voice that was filled with determination and certainty;

“Deal.”

            Jimmy then quickly leaned back to stand straight, clasped his hand together, and loudly announced in that polite, friendly tone that was almost as false as the lies that he told the adults;

“Wonderful! I hope that we have an enjoyable time together! See you later!”

He then walked away with a spring in his step, leaving us to process what just happened. The quiet one seemed pretty chill about it, but Steph and I were understandably horrified. She was the first one to explain to our friend what he had just gotten himself into, with a voice that was oozing with horror;

“That was brave of you and all, but how can you beat Jimmy at a Homerun Derby match when you haven’t seen a Baseball game in your life?! I mean, have you played the sport?!”

“I agree with you, Steph.”, said yours truly, with fear being very audible in my voice as well as I explained to him;

“I mean, in order for you to have the best chance at winning, you would have to learn from…”

The fear that once gripped me melted away as my thoughts moved over to what I was trying to say. At that moment, I realized something that was both important and exciting to me. Something that I decided right then and there to make clear to both of my friends as I finished my sentence with a more excited, yet softer voice so that only they could hear me;

“someone who knows a thing or two about Baseball.”

I then looked over to Stephanie with a mischievous grin on my face. She understood exactly what I was getting at, and she was not happy about it.

“No. Just no.”, was her frightened, yet soft, response, fear clearly visible on her face as she backed away a step.

“Come on now, Steph.”, I said quietly in response, not wanting to back down, while being gentle about it for her sake;

“He will need a lot of help in order get good at swinging a bat in a week. I know that you’re afraid of Jimmy, I am too. But didn’t you give him a hard time just now?”

“That was because… “, she started saying in an annoyed, frightened tone before stopping to take a breath so that she could finish;

“I have two of my friends here with me.”

That was just what I wanted to hear as I responded with kindness and confidence;

“Well then, your two friends will be with you while you help out.”

I then looked over the quiet boy and asked him;

“Right, pal?”

He looked over at Stephanie and nodded his head in agreement with his calming smile on his face. I looked back at her too, waiting for her response. She stood silent for five seconds and sighed in resignation before declaring in a whisper;

“Fine… but only because I like to help my friends and… I want to finally get back at Jimmy.”

She then took another breath and softly explained while looking at each of us repeatedly;

“Now, you two meet me at my house after school tomorrow. Vinny can tell you where to go. Oh, and one more thing.”

She aimed her gaze squarely at our friend as she slowly whispered;

“Don’t tell anyone about the game or the fact that I am going to help you, understand?”

He nodded his head, which was enough for her to say;

“Thank you, I’ll see you all tomorrow then.”

She then shot a look of frustration at me as she turned around and walked away. I turned to my left to face our friend and told him, with a sly tone in my voice, of a certain revelation that he had just delivered to us;

“So, you _can_ talk.”

He looked back at me for a moment with a truly nervous look on his face before looking away while whistling in an attempt to avoid the topic altogether. Out of respect and gratitude to him, I let the kid have this. My thoughts then focused on what was coming, for I knew at that point that the next day was going to be a fun one.

            I arrived at Stephanie’s house at the appointed time, with my mom proving me transportation. She had no problem with me paying a friend a visit, and when I told my parents about Jimmy being a jerk and the upcoming game, they saw it as a fun opportunity to give a bully what was coming to him: embarrassment. I could not bring myself to tell her or dad about what Jimmy had done to me specifically, however. I was afraid of what they could have said or done if I did, and you can thank him for that. When I walked up to the Steph’s white front door, I turned around to see if our friend of very few words had arrived yet. I could see him anywhere, so I figured that he was on his way over. So, I turned back to the door, knocked three times, and waited. After three seconds, it was opened up by tall adult with skin that had the same tone as Stephanie’s, short black hair that was recently cut, a pair of glasses, a red shirt with a yellow baseball bat drawn on its front, brown pants, and black slip-on shoes. This man was, and still is, Stephanie’s father. He looked down at me was quick to recognize who I was as he moved off the right side of the doorway to welcome me in while giving a polite, cheerful greeting;

“It’s good to see you again, Vinny. Come on in!”

Before I could do so, however, we both heard the not-so-subtle sound of a truck coming down the street from the west. I turned around to see it coming in from my left side. It was a light blue flat-bed truck that was clearly cared for, with little to no wear and tear to be found anywhere on it. The truck stopped directly in front of the walkway that lead to the house’s front door. Its passenger door opened up to reveal our friend as he carefully walked down its steps and onto the walkway while holding a baseball bat in his right hand. I smiled at the sight, happy to see that he was ready to practice. He walked towards us as the truck moved down road and out of the sight and hearing. He stopped mere inches from as he looked at each of us with a polite smile on his face. I turned back to face Steph’s dad and introduced him to my friend;

“This little guy has been good to your daughter and me. I hope you don’t mind him visiting too.”

“I don’t mind at all,”, he said to me with a smile as his gaze turned to him as he spoke;

“Stephanie has told me about you, and its hard to miss that cool hat of yours.”

The kid giggled a little while holding his yellow hat with his right hand for a moment as the grown-up then explained;

“You, like Vinny, are welcome in our home, for a friend of Stephanie’s is a friend of mine.”

He then motioned with his right hand and arm for the two of us to come into the house. We did so, with me leading us on.

            The doorway lead into a rather cozy living room, which was equipped with a brown sofa that had a blanket resting on its three cushions, a lovingly decorated carpet in the center of the room that depicted the image of a flowers aplenty, and two large reclining chairs positioned at the far sides of the carpet, at the left and right sides of the sofa. These chairs were aimed at each other, with a battery-powered clock above the one of the far-right side on one of the walls, all of which were painted brown. There was no TV in the living room of the Morgan household. From all of the times that I had visited this place, I learned that this room was meant for be a quiet, peaceful place. Stephanie and her dad preferred to watch TV together in the kitchen, which was beyond the brown door to the far-left side of the room. As admired the beauty of the place, I saw the little boy walk past me while looking around the place with an amazement in his eyes, as if he had never seen a house like this before in his life. I left him to explore for a bit while I checked on the dad, who had just closed the door behind me and locked it tight. I then decided to ask him;

“So, how is Steph doing today?”

“Better than yesterday, I am sure.”, he noted while looking away, at a bit of the floor on his left side. His tone was more solemn than earlier as he spoke;

“She… told me what Jimmy had done to her, to you, and to those other kids.”

He looked back at me as he continued;

“It saddens me that someone would dare to be so cruel to children, and get away with it too. If you ever want someone to talk to, you can talk with me, okay.”

This was something that I was needing ever since my problems with Jimmy began; an adult not only believing that he had done wrong, but also offering me, one of that jerk’s targets, support. The Gooch, understandably, needed a moment to keep himself from crying before saying in shaky, yet happy tone;

“T-the Gooch appreciates that!”

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from beyond the kitchen door. Two knocks were heard from the other side of it, which had gotten everyone attention. The dad walked ahead of us over to the door, knocked twice back, and asked;

“Are you ready dear?”

“Yes…”, said Stephanie, who was whimpering a little from behind the door.

“Its okay, darling.”, said her father in a soothing tone that only a loving parent could use when speaking to their child;

“We are all here for you, take your time.”

He was not wrong about that, in my mind at least. The three of us looked at the door, waiting for her to come out. Our little friend had no idea what was coming, but I certainly suspected that something was up. I asked the father while keeping my eyes on the door;

“So, what’s going on with Steph?”

“Just watch, Vinny.”, was all I could get from him, complete with a calm tone that was rich with anticipation.

The door then slowly opened with a loud creaking sound, revealing a sight that never got old for me every time I saw it. The knocking from earlier distracted me long enough for me to calm down, but this… this put a smile on my face as I exclaimed in pride;

“Oh yes!”

The three of us saw Stephanie wearing her personal baseball playing regalia, an outfit that until now, only her father, yours truly, and one other friend of hers had seen her wear: A large red baseball cap that covered her ears and most of her hair except for a bit of it that was poking out from behind her head, a light blue overshirt with a red undershirt that could be seen sticking out from the sleeves and above the overshirt’s collar, a pair of light blue sports gloves with square dark blue cushiony parts in the middle of each glove, light blue shorts that reached below the knees, and a pair of white sports sneakers. Simply put, this young lady was dressed to play ball! Her face, however, showed that she was not quite ready yet, as it was oozing with fear. She was looking not at her dad or me, but at our little friend, who was looking back at her with even more amazement in his eyes than ever. She then slowly asked in a frightened stutter;

“D-d-do you… l-l-l-like the outfit?”

His response was a simple one; he showed off that big smile that could sooth anyone’s tension with ease while giving her a genuine thumbs up with his right hand. This was enough to get to her smile in relief at not being rejected. She looked at each of us and explained herself to us, this time without the stutter;

“Even before Jimmy started bullying me, I… did not like the idea of telling people about this, about what I like, because I was afraid of them calling me stupid or some other insulting name over it. Jimmy being so mean to me made me work harder to hide this from people, except for my father, and the few friends that I have.”

She looked at me with a small, but sweet smile as she continued;

“That’s because, unlike dummies like him, my friends won’t hurt me over what I like, and I think of you as my friend too.”

She looked back over to the little boy as she said this, her smile still present as she spoke;

“Thank you for being good to me, to us. I know I said this before, but please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

He nodded his head, his calming smile refusing to vanish. Silence crept into the room for a few seconds, which gave me the chance to ask Stephanie a question that I have been aching to ask her ever since I walked into the house;

“So then, what do you know about Baseball?”

            She took a deep breath to collect herself and her thoughts and the answered in a slow, calm tone;

“Well… if you must know…”

She then took another deep breath as I braced myself for what was going to happen next.

“Here it comes.”, I declared in excited anticipation as Stephanie expressed herself in a way that was truly hers. She started speaking slowly, and picked up the pace as she went along.

“I know every official rule on how to play Baseball, the names of every single team that has ever existed in the major, minor, and little leagues, the names and locations of every single venue that has ever hosted a Baseball match as well as how many of those venues still exist today,”.

At this point, she was explaining what she knew about the sport at rapid speed, and yet, I could still make out what she was saying as she continued her enjoyable rant;

“the histories of every single major league player who has ever been proven to have cheated at the professional level, their postcards I use for pitching practice by the way, every single instance of racism and sexism that has ever occurred in all of the current leagues,”.

By the time she had reached that point in her explanation, she was pacing left and right in front of us. I paid her close attention as a show of support. That, and learning about Baseball from her was always fun and interesting to the Gooch. No, she was not done ranting yet;

“seriously, that crud needs to stop! I also know how much money each major league team makes per season, the pitch stance that every professional player uses on television, and-!”.

Now, I figured, was a good time to get her quit yappin’ by gently telling her aloud;

“Steph! Give yourself a chance to breathe!”

Thankfully, my words got her attention, so she responded by taking a moment to breathe, looking right at me, and saying in a soft tone;

“Sorry about that. Once I start talking about my favorite sport ever, I don’t shut up right away.”

She laughed for a moment, clearly finding her behavior to be funny in a harmless way. I looked over at the little guy and as it turns out, he was paying close attention to her as well. He was even holding his chin with his right hand, as if thinking about what she had said. I took the smile on his face as a sign that he was not annoyed by her ranting at all, which was good enough for the Gooch. A thought had then crossed my mind, which prompted me to ask her;

“You mentioned your friends, I saw one of yours a few days ago. She was talking to you about Jimmy, what happened to her?”

A frown appeared on her face as she responded in a calm, lower tone;

“She did not want to risk being bullied by him, so she stopping coming to the playground.”

A smile replaced that frown as she also noted;

“We still talk on the phone though, and boy was she happy to hear about what our friend has been doing to give Jimmy a hard time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen Reese in the playground either, ever since his run-in with that jerk.”, I explained, hoping that she might shine some light on that subject.

She calmly did, her frown coming back with gusto;

“Yeah, I’ve been talking with him on the phone too, along with the other kids that were bullied. None of them want to go near that place until Jimmy is gone, and I can’t blame them. Heck, I haven’t seen or heard from that sweet little girl that you talked about before.”

“Oh, darn it, I wanted to hug her for being so helpful!”, I explained with a disappointed tone;

“The Gooch is thinking that she may have had the same idea as the other kids.”

Stephanie then sighed and declared aloud with surety;

“Now we got more reason than ever to put this nightmare to an end. Not just to stop a bully, but also to make our favorite playground a safe place for kids again.”

Her father chimed in politely;

“My daughter here explained to me the game that is coming up and I agree, this Jimmy Knuckles can’t be allowed to run rampant in that playground or anywhere else. I see this game as an opportunity to teach him a lesson in humility.”

He looked at her with serious and understanding expression as he spoke to her directly in a father tone;

“I am proud of you for opening up about what has been happening, and I will do what I can to help you and your friends put this problem to bed. I know you made it clear to me that no adult can be seen by him during the match. But once it is over and he walks out of that stadium, I will be right there waiting for him at the exit, and he will not like what I have to say. He won’t see or hear me until it’s too late for him, I promise.”

Stephanie could not help but smile over his words as she hugged him while exclaiming aloud out of joy;

“Thank you, Dad!”

“Of course, my dear,”, he responded in a loving tone while accepting her hug with a smile.

He then gasped before expressing in shock;

“Oh, goodness, where are my manners? All this excitement has distracted me from introducing myself to our new friend!”

Steph carefully released her grip on her dad as he stood up to walk over to the little guy and declare politely with a smile;

“My name is Gregory Morgan, but you can call me Greg.”

Our friend nodded with a smile as Greg turned around to look at Stephanie and me as he spoke once more, with a quick wink to his daughter as he finished speaking;

“Now then, I believe that its time that we get you all to the practice spot.”

“Sounds good, dad.”, Stephanie sad in agreement as she walked back to the kitchen door. She then turned to look at each of us with a smile on her face and said in a tone that had a hint of excitement that was slowly building up within her;

“Come on guys, I know the perfect spot!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is so long, that I have to divide it into two parts to help you all process the many, many details more easily.
> 
> Don't worry folks, it will be worth the wait (I hope).
> 
> Part 2 will be posted when its ready.
> 
> Muchas gracias, mi amigos!  
> Thank you very much, my friends!


	2. El Arma Secreta Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vinny, Stephanie, and her father Greg help their new friend prepare for his upcoming homerun-derby match against Jimmy. None of them have any idea just how good this kid can be at hitting homers.
> 
> Needless to say, the match will be a competitive battle to remember...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this took a LONG time to get right! I am sorry about the wait, but I had to take my time with this two-parter.
> 
> Not just because it sets things up for the future of the series, but also because I love the characters in the games too darn much to not do them justice.
> 
> With that being said, thank you all so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the second and last part of "El Arma Secreta"!

            We got into the Morgan family minivan and rode on out to our destination. Carefully stashed inside the back of the van was a whole assortment of bats, gloves, white base diamonds, and baseballs, all neatly stored in three large sturdy plastic boxes. Along the way, Stephanie explained to us that this place that we were going to was an old sandlot where she could practice her Baseball playing skills safely, far from prying eyes and ears. This was far from being a “regulation field” as she put it, but it was the best place where she could teach our friend how to hit homeruns without Jimmy being able to spy on us. She usually went there on days when no one was expecting her, particularly weekends. Back then, as far as we all knew, she was the only one, other than her father, who knew of the place as far as she knew. Not even the Gooch knew of it, since it was her private space in her eyes. So, for us boys to learn of that space from her was an honor in my mind. She also made it clear that her admitting to us that this place even existed adds to the seriousness of what we were going to do, so it was important that our little friend did his best to figure out how hitting homeruns worked. We all understood her wholeheartedly, for everyone in that van wanted to get Jimmy to stop his bullying for good.

            It took about an hour, but we had arrived at the sandlot. From what I could tell by looking through the minivan’s window, it certainly looked the part, with sand covering the ground throughout the whole place. Erected along the borders of the property were tall wooden fences that were painted green and surrounded the entire area, except for an opening that served as the entrance and exit. It was a large lot too, with enough space to make it a halfway decent Baseball field. Sure, it had no bases, baselines, or even a pitcher’s mound, but it was something that we could work with. Beyond the fences, I could see a dense forest standing ominously from behind them, surrounding the lot itself. The one road that we took to get here was the only way in and out of the area, which stopped right in front of the gap in the fences. The forest extended out beyond the lot to follow the road from both sides for about a mile. It was Summer time, so the trees were covered with plenty of green leaves. One tree stood out from the others as the tallest one in the forest, towering over the lot from behind the center field portion of the fence with its many leaves and thick branches held by one seriously thick trunk. I had never seen a tree that big before in my life, in books maybe, but not in person.

“That is one tall tree.”, I remarked in awe of its beauty and size as I got out of the van.

“A lovely sight too.”, noted Stephanie, who was not too far behind me as she spoke;

“I climbed up to the top of it once.”

“Really?!”, I exclaimed, surprised that she would actually do something that dangerous.

“Yeah, the view was amazing, but the hardest part was getting back down.”, she explained in a nostalgic tone.

We then looked over at our little friend, who was the first to exit the van. He was staring at the tall tree as if he were daydreaming. Steph then asked him seriously;

“Are you ready for this, friend?”

Her question brought him back to Earth, for he shook his head, turned around to face her, and raised his bat, which he was carrying in his right hand this whole time, to show that he was, in fact, ready. This pleased Stephanie, for she then joyfully announced to all of us with a smile, even as her dad was trying to bring out the boxes that held the Baseball gear;

“Good, then let’s begin!”

With that, the little boy’s seven days of training began.

            My pal Stephanie demonstrated to our friend just how much she knew about Baseball during training. Each day, she would carefully place each of the base diamonds on certain spots throughout the sandlot so that 1st base was situated near the right corner, 3rd base near the left corner, 2nd base near center field, thus lining up with that really tall tree standing proudly over it from behind, and Homeplate positioned a few inches to the left of the opening. Before doing any of this, however, she made it a point to bring a measuring stick with her on the first day, just so that she could accurately measure the distance between each base. Her goal, in her own words, was to; “put the bases in just the right spots, so that our trainee can practice in an area that resembles a baseball field as closely as possible.”. A bit overkill, if you ask the Gooch, but she had a good reason behind her seemingly strange actions. As she performed her measurements, she explained to us that the old stadium that our friend was going to face Jimmy at used to hold high-profile baseball matches from both the Minor and Major Leagues. But due to lackluster sales that resulted from a combination of declining building conditions, incompetent management, and an embezzling scandal that ruined the owner’s reputation, the stadium was closed down a year before our troubles with Jimmy began. Since the last sporting event that it hosted before closing was a baseball game, Steph suspected that the field was still there, bases and fencing included. Her line of thinking was that by training our friend on a field similar in look and shape to the one in the stadium, he may not feel so nervous when it comes time to play ball, since playing in a familiar area might calm him down a bit. The Gooch liked that idea, as anything that could help our friend beat Jimmy, except for cheating, was alright with me. But there was a problem that not even Stephanie could solve; the sizes of the two fields. According to her, the stadium’s field was made with professional players in mind, not little kids like us. Putting it bluntly, it was larger than the entire sandlot, which meant that our friend would have to hit the ball farther down that field in order to get a homerun. Luckily, as she pointed out to us after finishing with placing the bases for the first time, this problem went both ways, for Jimmy was going to have to contend with hitting balls in a Major League field too. But she was worried that he was practicing with that in mind, so she made it clear to us from the start that our friend was going to have to work his little butt off in order to have a chance at winning the game! Thankfully for him, he had the biggest Baseball enthusiast in town as his teacher, and she was going to put her extensive knowledge to good use for his sake.

            Stephanie taught him everything she knew about hitting a baseball; how to properly hold the bat with both hands, which side of Homeplate to swing from (he was right-handed, so he decided to swing from the left side), timing his swing with when the ball comes at him, aiming his swing where the ball is going to be, the different pitches to look out for, you name it, she taught it. With help from her father’s guidance and some friendly encouragement from the Gooch, she made sure to teach him at a pace that allowed him to understand what she was getting at. It helped quite a bit that, as we would quickly learn, our friend was quite the fast learner. We discovered this during the first day of training, when Stephanie explained to him the basic rules of hitting homeruns after she had finished placing the bases on their proper spots;

“Homeruns can only be earned when you hit a ball over the fence down left, right, or center-field.”

She told this to him while kneeling down on one knee to speak at his level while pointing at each direction she mentioned to him with her right index finger. She then further noted;

“If the ball goes too far to the left or to the right, then it is a foul ball.”

She then looked right at him, who nodded his head to show that he understood her so far. At that point, she made a key detail clear to him;

“Anything less than a homerun won’t be counted as a score in a Homerun Derby, so when the time comes, you bring your A-game to that stadium, got it?”

He nodded his head again in agreement, to which Stephanie responded by standing back up and requesting to him;

“Show me your best swing, no holding back.”

She then walked over to her father’s right side, with me on the her right. We were standing an inch or two in front of the fence near the 3rd base line. We watched as our friend stood next to Homeplate, raised his bat with both hands, bent his knees down just as Stephanie had demonstrated to him, and took a swing that looked positively mean looking in terms of force. I noticed that about mid-way through his swing, he released the bat from his right hand so that his left hand could finish the job. Stephanie had noticed this too, for she walked back over to him and told him;

“You got a strong swing in those arms, but I saw what you were doing with your hands and it fascinated me.”

He raised his right eyebrow in confusion as Steph explained to him in that calm, quick pace that she normally uses when talking about Baseball related stuff;

“Typically, Baseball players swing their bats while they hold onto the batting handle with both hands during the entirety of the swing. You, on the other hand, start with both hands, but then you let go of the handle with the right hand at the half-way point, which allows your left hand to finish the swing on its own.”

Her explanation made the rest of us very quiet, whether it be to let the conversation run its course, or in our friend’s case, due to being visibly taken aback by what he had just heard. He gave off a worried look that Steph had noticed, which prompted her to smile gently as she noted sweetly;

“Eh, you got nothing to worry about, as long you are hitting homeruns and your swing is comfortable for you, of course.”

Her words clearly calmed the boy’s nerves, for he responded with a smile and another nod. Steph then asked him politely while reaching out for his bat with her right hand;

“May I use your bat for a moment?”

He quickly handed it over to her with his right hand, allowing her to grab it. She held the bat’s handle with both hands and pointed the tip straight up to the sky while holding the bat up to her face as she explained;

“Not every player swings their bat in the exact same way, you see. So, while there are clear rules in place regarding stances and swinging in general, there is some wiggle room left for making a swing...”

Without warning, she turned her whole body so that her left side was facing the right-side fence, her back facing our friend. She then bent her knees forward slightly and positioned the bat so that she held it from behind her head, its tip still pointing at the clear blue sky above her head. Steph waited for one second and swiftly swung the bat through the air with strength and surety. She mostly used both hands to perform the swing. She released her right hand’s grip on the handle, like how the boy did it, only she did so near the end of the motion instead of half-way through it. She turned back around to face our friend right after swinging and handed the bat back over to him with her right hand as she finished with a confident smile;

“your own.”

His response was a combination of supportive clapping and soft laughter, for which Stephanie was obviously grateful as she replied with a tiny hint of a slightly inflated ego in her voice;

“Thank you, thank you. Now then, let’s see how your swing handles hitting actual balls.”

            He quickly took his bat back from her and ran back to Homeplate in response to her words as Steph walked over to the box where the baseballs were stored, in front of the minivan’s closed backdoor. She then bent over to grab one from the pile and moved over to the nearby bucket to the right of the box that held the catcher’s mitts. After grabbing one and putting it on her left hand, she ran all the way over to the spot where the pitcher’s mound would be; right in front of Homeplate while in the middle of the diamond shape that the four bases created. Steph held her ball in both hands as she raised them up to the right side of her face. She then yelled over to her trainee, who was already in his batting stance;

“Okay, I am going to start you off with a Slowball! Be ready for it!”

He stood as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse, which was proof enough for her that he was ready. Steph stood in place for a moment and performed her motions, the same ones that every Major League player performs on television, to throw the ball out from her right hand. The pitch was, just as she had warned him, a well thrown Slowball. The boy watched that ball move through the air at a slow and steady pace, waiting patiently for the right moment while looking for the right spot to swing at. His breath was steady, his form stable. Before long, the ball had arrived at its destination; off to his middle-right side, but still within reach of his bat. At the precise moment when the ball was almost above the plate, he swung in the exact same way as before with all of his strength poured into it, hitting the ball with a mighty crack from the impact between it and the bat! He sent that ball flying down center field at breakneck speed and higher than any of us had ever anticipated. It was so high, in fact, that it flew over the center-field fence and deep into the forest beyond! Needless to say, our friend’s first hit became a homerun, an achievement that left the Gooch speechless. Stephanie was speechless too as she moved her head to follow the ball’s journey into the forest in stunned silence. I had no idea how Greg was reacting, because I was too shocked to move my body an inch. Our friend, however, was jumping up and down from Homeplate repeatedly while raising his bat up to the sky, laughing in celebration of his success.

            Steph was the first of us to calm down enough to speak, for she turned back around to face her student and yell over to him, her shock making it challenging for her to get her words to come out of her mouth;

“O-okay… very good, friend! How about… you try hitting… a Heat?!”

He stopped celebrating upon hearing her request so that he could get back into his stance quickly. Stephanie ran back to the ball box to grab another one before returning to her pitching spot. The Gooch guesses that she did not want to deal with looking for the one that just got sent flying through the trees. I certainly did not want to go hunting for it either, as I did not want to get lost in the woods. Once they were both ready, she took a deep breath, took her pitching stance and threw the ball just like before, only with much more power added in. This resulted in her throwing a pitch that traveled at a much faster pace than the last one did, which gave our friend less time to see where it was going to go, let alone get the timing of his swing down. With a steady breath and a stable form, he waited until he saw that it was coming in somewhat at his upper-left side. Harder to hit, especially with it moving so fast, but that kid went for it anyway. He swung his bat right when the ball was above the plate, smacking it with another vicious crack. This time, that sucker took a long flight down right field, careening over the fence without going far enough to the right to become a foul ball. That marked the second homerun that our friend had earned, two in a roll to be exact! I was shocked again, but this time, I could bring myself to cheer in support of the kid over what he had just done by shouting in glee;

“The Gooch likes that! YEAH, give me some more of that!”

Once again, Stephanie could only watch the ball make its way over the fence in awe over what had just happened. Once the ball had bounced onto the ground just short of the forest beyond the sandlot, she did not move another inch for a whole five seconds before running over to the kid while yelling;

“Time out!”

She stopped to stand in front him and looked him in the eye as she asked;

“Did you ever hit a baseball before coming here?”

He quickly shook his head to quietly tell her no. I could tell from where I was standing that she was utterly shocked by his answer, for she took two more seconds to silently compose herself before telling him in a voice that was shaky as heck;

“Y-you mind if I…. talk with Vinny and dad for a moment while you practice your swing?”

The big smile that he showed her was evidence enough to her that he was fine with the idea. She walked over to the two of us while the kid started swinging his bat repeatedly. She then whispered to us in a voice that was filled with shock, nervousness, and a dash of slowly building excitement;

“This kid… I know its too early to tell, but… this kid is like a young Babe Ruth!”

            “Maybe it is simple beginner’s luck,” her father calmly suggested.

“Luck had nothin’ to do with it.”, I noted excitedly as I went on to explain myself;

“As far as the Gooch is concerned, that kid is good!”

I watched Stephanie as she pondered to herself in silence while holding her chin with her right index finger and thumb. After roughly five seconds of thought, she noted to the both of us;

“Hmmm… I’ll have to double-check, just to be sure…”

Without another word, she turned around to walk back over to our friend, who was still swinging his bat repeatedly, to tell him with surety and a hint of a teacher’s authority;

“Alright, let’s see how you handle Hooks.”

He returned to his batting stance without hesitation as she grabbed a third baseball and made her way over to her pitching position. After taking a second to breathe, she wound up and threw the ball. Instead of it coming at the kid straight, the ball moved over to his left in a curve as it traveled towards Homeplate. It was a Left Hook that made its way over to the plate’s left side in a speed that was not as fast as the Heat, yet it was faster than a Slowball. It managed to fly above the plate from that side before the kid took a mean swing at it with another powerful crack. This time, however, it flew down center field, over Steph’s head by a few feet, hitting the fence with a strong thud and bouncing onto the ground instead of going out of the park. A solid hit, to be sure, but no homerun this time.

            Our friend did not celebrate that hit, but to the Gooch, he did not look too upset about it, as he quickly went back into his stance to ready himself for the next pitch without a single complaint. Stephanie, like before, had watched the ball as it traveled down center field, as she turned back to face him, she then wound up again and threw another Hook, this one curving over to the right side instead of the left. This Right Hook moved at the same speed as its counterpart towards him. He managed to hit it with gusto as it flew just above the plate, sending it careening over to the right field fence. The ball bounced off the fence with another strong thud as it landed on the ground below. Another fair hit, but not a homerun. As the kid repositioned himself yet again, Stephanie walked over to him while motioning to her father and me with her right hand to come over to them. We did exactly that, with the Gooch thinking that what she was going to say had to be important. Once we all grouped up around our friend, she explained to him with calm surety;

“I get it now. You can hit straight pitches over the fences with ease. But, while you can send Hooks flying down field easily enough, belting them out of the park is a bit more challenging for you.”

The boy’s response was simple and to the point. He raised his bat with his right hand to point its tip over the center field fence. He then aimed it over the fences on right field and left field respectively. We all knew exactly what he was trying to get at; he wanted to keep practicing until he could consistently hit homeruns in each of those directions. Stephanie, with enthusiasm in her smile and determination in her voice, announced to him in response;

“Clearly, you want to get seriously good at hitting homers, so I’m going to throw everything I got at you each day, understand?”

He lowered his bat as he looked over at her and nodded his head in agreement. I could see fire in his eyes that was balanced by his gentle, yet confident smile. From that point on, Stephanie Morgan would put him through his paces and then some!

            Stephanie had that kid practice from noon until the evening during that week. She would have trained him until midnight, were it not for her father making it a point to reign her in. During the first two practice days, she would start him off by throwing a few pitches while announcing to him what each one was going to be before doing so. Once day three came along, however, she would start to throw pitches without giving a single hint as to what they could be. The idea was to encourage the kid to keep his eyes on the ball in order to guess what a pitch was going to be, where it was going, and when to hit it. No pitch will ever be announced to a batter in a real Homerun Derby match, or an actual Baseball match for that matter. So, being able to figure out what pitch could be coming at him on the fly was a good lesson for the kid to learn. As we would soon figure out, he was a quick study, for he was able to accurately guess each type of pitch that Steph had decided to throw at him by the time that day four had arrived. As the days came and went, his batting skills improved at a pace that neither Stephanie, her father Greg, nor the Gooch could have expected. At day one, he could hit straight pitches out the park without any trouble at all. But at day five, he could hit _every_ type of pitch that Steph could dish out. It was during day six when he had shown how far he had come, for that little boy with the yellow hat was hitting nothing but homeruns!

            After the final practice session was done and over with, at about one hour away from the appointed match time, Stephanie, the kid, and yours truly rode the mini-van to the stadium, with her father driving us safely. Stephanie, it turns out, had been holding most of her hair under baseball cap, but for this night, she decided to let the hair on the back of her head come out, including her bushy ponytail, which reached down to her neck. Oh, we were excited as heck as the evening drew closer, for at that point, we truly believed that our friend could out-hit Jimmy any day of the week. Stephanie herself just could not help but brag about how good her student had become at hitting homers as she excitedly declared;

“That poor Jimmy Knuckles has no idea what he is getting himself into! I mean, the first kid to stand against him without getting hurt by him just so happens to be an incredibly talented batter, and he challenged _him_ to a Homerun-Derby match! I thought I was calling it early back when we started out, but now I know without a doubt that this kid is a young Babe Ruth!”

            Our friend raised his right eyebrow to express his confusion over what he had heard. Noticing this, she asked him;

“You don’t know who Babe Ruth is?”

He shook his head to say no, which prompted her to gasp out of shock. The Gooch knew exactly what was coming, so I calmly gave him a fair warning;

“Brace yourself, kid, because she is about to throw some Baseball history in your direction.”

Stephanie took a deep breath, exhaled, and did exactly what I said she would do;

“Babe Ruth was one of the greatest batters in the Major Leagues during his time! He may not have had formal batting training, but he was able to hit homeruns left, right, and center! He was so good, in fact, that he was able to out-hit his fellow Major League players and set new batting records that are still talked about to this day! Heck, he even broke some of his own records a few times! Mind you, those records were set during a time when black men could not compete due to the color barrier that was held up by racism, but that does not change the fact that he was darn good at swinging the lumber!”

The kid’s eyes lit up as he looked closely at Steph, clearly interested in what she was saying. As for the Gooch, while I was also interested in Baseball lore, after spending seven days helping the city of Glint’s biggest Baseball enthusiast train our friend, I definitely needed a break from her yappin’. So, I decidedly to gently tell her with a cool smile on my face before she dropped more info onto his lap;

“That will do, Steph. That will do.”

She stopped talking to look at me nervously for a moment before beginning to laugh in a hearty, genuine fashion. The kid and the Gooch joined in on the laughter, as we all found it both funny, and cool, that Stephanie blabs about her favorite sport so much that sometimes, she needs someone to get her to put a clamp on it. Right when we calmed down, an idea popped into my head, one that was too awesome to not mention as I looked Steph in the eye and spoke up excitedly;

“Since Jimmy doesn’t know a darn thing about our friend here being so good at what he does, you could say that he is our secret weapon!”

I turned silent the moment I had finished my sentence, for I had realized, at that precise moment, just how cool my idea was. Thus, I could not bring myself to say anything more about it, as I did not want to risk ruining it with a bad explanation. Steph looked back at me with a surprised look on her face. She quickly shut her eyes while lowering her head down slightly to think on what I had just said. I moved my eyes to see that our friend was turning his head repeatedly to look at each of us, while he himself appeared to be curious as to what was going to happen next. No one said a word for five seconds before Stephanie raised her head back up, opened her eyes, and expressed a small smile on her face as she calmly uttered;

“Hmmm… The Secret Weapon… that sounds like a cool nickname.”

She looked over at our friend, who was looking back at her, and asked him politely;

“Do you like it?”

He gently held his chin with his right hand as he silently pondered for another five seconds before nodding his head with a noticeable spark in his eyes. The kind of spark that, from what I would learn from my parents later, only shows in a person’s eyes when they are feeling especially happy. At that moment, I did not know what seeing his eyes light up like that meant exactly, but I could guess from his nodding alone that he liked the nickname. Steph noticed this too, for she responded by clearly declaring, with that smile from before still etched on her face;

“Okay then, The Secret Weapon it is.”

“Now don’t you forget, Steph,”, I mentioned to her right then and there in a calm tone as I quickly pointed my right index finger directly at her. My goal was to lightly tease her as I continued;

“I came up with that name first, you hear?”

I made sure to wink at her to let her know that I was not being too serious about it. Yeah, I did coin the nickname, but I was not going to be a hard-butt over it. Thankfully for the Gooch, Stephanie recognized what the wink meant and responded with a soft chuckle and a wink of her own. That girl knew me so well, let me tell you. The Secret Weapon himself chuckled a little along with her, although I could not figure out back then if he knew whether or not I was teasing. It took us about forty-five minutes of driving, but we had reached our destination, the venue for our friend’s match with our bully; the abandoned Towerwood Stadium.

            Just from looking out the mini-van’s windows, we could easily see that the main circular building that held the Stadium together towered over all of us as Greg maneuvered the vehicle through the empty parking lot that was positioned near the front entrance. The building itself was painted with a very light shade of brown, with its roof given a deep blue coat. The paint had almost faded out completely, with bits of it peeling off of many parts of the wall. The roof’s deep blue coat lost its vibrance to the elements long ago, now it’s more of a subtle shade these days. Resting high above the tall doors on the front wall were faded markings that made it clear that the stadium’s logo used to hang on that spot. When the Gooch looked more closely, he could see that the markings were depicting what would have been the logo’s shape. My guess is that it was either pulled off the wall, or it fell off, after the stadium was abandoned. The doors themselves were wide open and were built with large windows so that one could see inside the property from the outside. It was a very good thing that those windows were never broken, because dealing with glass shards is never a safe thing to do.

            The mini-van slowed right down and stopped at the edge of the parking lot, as close to the entrance as Greg could possibly take it without driving off of the lot itself. The right side of the vehicle, the one that held the passenger doors, was facing the entrance. The Gooch, Stephanie, and our bat-wielding friend opened our doors and walked out onto the cement one at a time, leaving her father, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. We then walked over to his door, which prompted him to lower his window so that we could speak with him. Without hesitation, he spoke to us in a serious tone with a whisper, so that only we could hear him;

“Now kids, according to my phone,”

He pulled out his black smartphone to look at its clock before finishing;

“We have about fifteen minutes before the match begins. So, I’m going to hide the van and make myself scarce before Jimmy shows up.”

He put his phone away and looked over at Stephanie with a look of genuine fatherly love as he continued;

“Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. I’ll be close enough to the action to hear you all, and see you if I need to. Your bully, however, won’t catch me until I catch him after the match, and he won’t like what happens next.”

He gave her a sly wink with his right eye as he finished that last sentence, which prompted her to grin in relief over having her father around to back us up this time. He then turned his attention over to the Gooch and said to me politely;

“You had better be good to my daughter and her friend, understand?”

“Easiest thing in the world for the Gooch, Mr. Morgan.”, I proudly uttered, while making sure to keep my voice down as well, just to be safe.

Greg smiled as he then aimed his head to face our friend and told him in that same polite tone;

“Make sure that you put a big, fat L on that disrespectful teenager’s win-loss record, okay?”

It was The Secret Weapon’s turn to smile brightly as he gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up in acknowledgement of his request. Steph’s father then raised the driver door’s window back up, which was our cue to take a few steps back to make room for the mini-van as it began to move in reverse. It went on to turn to its left as it moved backward, with it stopping to face its left side soon after. It then moved forward whilst turning more to its left until it was going back the way it came. We watched the vehicle move farther and father away from us for a moment or two before we turned around to face the stadium’s front entrance. We stared at it in silence for one minute before I decided to be the first of us to walk over to the doors while announcing with confidence in my voice and my head;

“Well, Jimmy won’t kick his own butt, now will he?”

With that, the three of us walked into the stadium, none of us having any idea just how important the events that were to happen would be to our futures.

            It took us about a minute to reach the baseball field via one of its dark tunnels, and goodness, to say it was a mess was a huge understatement! The field itself mostly looked the part; it had green grass on the outfield and around infield. Brown dirt covered the infield itself, with its old and dirt-riddled base diamonds having been left on their spots, possibly since the day the building was closed down. The paint for the baselines and the foul lines had vanished from sight long ago. Two large rectangular dugouts were standing behind where the left and right foul lines would have been, one on each side. The insides of each dugout were dug a bit of a ways into the ground, hence their name. The pitcher’s mound was still present as well. Unlike the makeshift one back at The Sandlot, this spot was an actual mound that was carefully raised up from the ground to give pitchers something to stand on. Normally, there would be a small white line painted on top of the mound, but that too had faded away over time. The grass, with no one to trim it regularly, had grown tall enough to stand high over the bases through size alone, up to half-way to my knees actually. The black covers that once protected the tall barricades that stood over left, right, and center field were visibly ripped off of numerous spots, revealing the metal exterior underneath. I could barely make out some of the advertisements that were still printed on the covers, even though they too were ripped in places. The audience seats that surrounded the field from behind and above the barricades were dustier than anything the Gooch had seen in his life before that moment. The seats were divided up into sections, three sections next to each other at the outfield and three more behind Homeplate. Standing high at the left and right corners of the outfield were tall yellow foul posts that almost reached the ceiling, each post setting next to the seats while being perfectly aligned with where the foul lines would have been. I looked over and up to see that the giant monitor that stood head and shoulders above the seats at center field had a black screen, a clear sign that it was not active. I looked over to the right of the monitor to see that the scoreboard, which was hanging next to it, was also inactive, with its dark green paint peeling off of certain places, particularly where the words ‘Home’ and ‘Away’ would be. The ceiling hung over the monitor, the scoreboard, and the audience seats, but it reached no further than that, effectively opening the field to the elements. The large light fixtures that hung from the ceiling were completely powerless. There was nothing else for it; according to the Gooch, this place looked like Baseball ruins, the old remains of a once beautiful and vibrant place where America’s favorite game was played to the amazement of the fans who came here during its life. Now, it was abandoned and barely remembered, a terrible waste in the Gooch’s mind.

            Apparently, Steph was thinking the same thing. She, alongside our friend, had caught up to me from behind and looked at our surroundings with a dejected expression on her face. After three minutes of silence, she then looked over at me and explained in a solemn voice;

“It’s always a shame to see perfectly good stadiums being left to fall apart like this. They hold plenty of memories for a lot of people, after all…”

I looked over at her and nodded my head in agreement. I then noticed that the boy was turning his body to look around the stadium while standing in place. The sad look on his face clearly told me that he was not too fond of this place’s condition either. Before we could discuss the subject any further however, we all heard an all-too-familiar voice call out to us from the tunnel that we had just used in a loud, rough, and confident tone;

“So, you found the guts to show up, eh?!”

We immediately turned around to see that The Secret Weapon’s opponent, our bully, had just walked out of the tunnel and was making his way over to us with his own bat gripped in his right hand. He was wearing a black shirt with a large red skull etched on its front, dark brown pants, black sneakers, a pair of black gloves, and that trucker hat that he seemed determined to never part with. Jimmy Knuckles had arrived, which meant to us that it was almost time to play ball.

            I instinctively walked over to Steph’s left side to stand with her while giving Jimmy the most serious glare that the Gooch could deliver. Our friend made it a point to stand between us and the big brute. As he did this, I noticed that he had tightened his grip on his bat’s batting handle, a subtle sign that The Secret Weapon was not happy to see him. I looked to my right to check to see how Steph was doing. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, deliberate pace, which revealed to me that she was breathing slowly and heavily, probably to keep herself calm while she was around the young man who bullied her before anyone else. Speaking of Jimmy, he walked up to our friend and stopped to stand in front of him, with a mere inch or two of space dividing them as they looked each in the eye in what could be best described as a doozy of a stare-down. Jimmy was smiling as he walked, but his face quickly expressed a serious look as he moved his head down to make eye-contact with the boy, who had to look straight up at him in order to do the same. I could feel the tension between those two from where I was standing and man, one could cut it with a knife, if you catch my meaning. The stare-down lasted for ten seconds before Jimmy became the first to speak up in a tone that oozed with bravado;

“You got fire in your eyes, runt. But, in the end,”

He chuckled softly a little before finishing;

“I will be the one who beats you.”

He then aimed his head over to Stephanie and myself before asking;

“So then, who will be our pitcher?”

Before the night of the match had arrived, the three of us had decided, after a short debate, that I would be the one to pitch. According to Steph, as much as she wanted to throw pitches down the strike-zone, she did not want Jimmy to find out that she knows a thing or two about Baseball. I could not blame her, since if he did find out, not only would he accuse her of helping our friend practice, but poor Steph would not hear the end of it from her bully. So, without a moment’s hesitation, the Gooch raised his hand to answer Jimmy’s question. This seemed to satisfy him, as he responded with a nod and a calm declaration that added a hint of excitement to his voice;

“Good, then I’ll grab my crate of baseballs and the fun can begin.”

He then ran back into the tunnel and out of sight. We stood there waiting for him for almost a whole minute before he came back with a crate filled with baseballs in hand. Seeing that we were basically ready to start, I made my way over to the pitcher’s mound as Steph decided to walk over to Jimmy. I overheard her give him a fair warning as I took my position on the mound, her voice filled with seriousness and a dash of anger;

“You better not be cheating in anyway, Jimmy, or-.”

The bully cut her off by responding with that confidence back in his voice;

“I’ll get disqualified? Please, I don’t need to cheat at swinging lumber when I am awesome at it.”

I heard him place the box on the ground with a loud thud mixed with the bouncing of many balls. He then declared loudly so that we could all hear him clearly;

“Alright kids, listen up, because I am not going to say this again!”

We all looked at him as he went on to explain the rules of our match. According to him, each batter could take a turn to try to hit homeruns. Their turn would end if they got struck out by the pitcher or if they hit the ball and it either landed in the infield or outfield three times, or it turned into a foul ball three times. Simply put, three strikes, and the batter was out. If the batter got a homerun, then they could keep hitting until they lose their turn. The match was setup to last for twelve rounds, with each batter getting one turn per-round. Whoever had the most homeruns at the end of twelfth round would win the derby. If there was a tie, then the batters would play for extra rounds until one of them earned the winning dinger. He finished off by announcing with a devious smile on his face;

“I have never lost a derby before, which makes me a champion of sorts. So, why not have the runt go first?”

I quickly aimed my eyes over at Stephanie, who had her eyes closed in thought for a moment or two before opening them back to nod in acknowledgement of the appointed rules. I did the same thing, thinking that if Steph, the Baseball expert, was okay with this, then so was the Gooch. Jimmy then grabbed a ball from the crate and threw over to me so that I could catch it.

As I caught the ball and turned around to face Homeplate, I saw our friend walk over to stand next to it so that he could swing from its left side. He then took his stance, the same one that he practiced with for a whole week, and looked right at me with that gigantic smile of his that I recognized so easily at this point. I turned my head to the left to see that Stephanie was making her way back into the tunnel. After about thirty seconds, she had moved over to the audience seats in one of the sections behind Homeplate so that she could take a seat that was situated at the front and off to my left side. As for Jimmy, he moved into the dugout to the right of Homeplate and took a seat on the bench inside. Without any further ado, I looked back over at The Secret Weapon and swore to myself as I readied myself to throw the first pitch;

“ _The Gooch will throw fairly tonight, for my friends’ sake.”_

With that thought in mind, the Homerun-Derby match had begun.

            The Gooch will be honest; I had actually practiced my pitching on my own backyard during that long week, just to make sure that I was able to pitch when it came time to do so. Honestly, I was not too bad at it. I mean, the Gooch had seen better pitchers, but I was pretty good at it myself. My first pitch in the match was a simple Slowball that traveled slightly to the left of the strike-zone’s center. I wanted my pitches to be fair, but I was not going to make them too darn easy to hit. Adding a good amount of challenge to a match can make it fun, really. That, and the Gooch really did not want to be accused of giving The Secret Weapon easy pitches to work with all the time. Doing so would be cheating and the last thing that I wanted was to get insulted by Jimmy some more. My Slowball was one that the kid could handle, as he was able to smack that sucker clear over the center field barricade to earn himself a point. I did not have to wait long to hear Jimmy’s response, which was a loud and confident;

“Ha! Beginner’s luck, that’s what it is!”

“ _You have no idea just how wrong you are, big guy._ ”, I thought to myself as I walked over to the crate, grabbed another ball, and returned to the mound so that I could prepare to throw my second pitch.

This time, I threw a solid Heat to the strike-zone’s upper-right corner. It was clearly inside, which meant that the kid had to go for it and did not have much time to do it. Thankfully for him, he pulled off yet another homerun by sending that ball flying over the right field barricade. The score had become 2-0 in favor of our friend. Jimmy made another comment with the same tone as before;

“Not bad, not bad at all! But, once its my turn, I’ll be hitting homers like crazy!”

The third pitch was a Right Hook that I had aimed at the bottom-left corner. The kid swung for it, but his bat missed the ball by a few centimeters. Strike one. I threw a Left Hook at the same spot as before. He was able to hit the sucker, but all that he could manage that time was a line drive down left field, with the ball bouncing off of the barricade. Strike two. I decided to throw a heat at the upper-right corner. This time, he managed to send ball flying over center field. Unfortunately, the ball had landed on the grass in front of the barricade with an audible bounce. Strike three, he was out for the round. The boy looked at me for a moment before walking over to the dugout opposite of Jimmy’s with bat in hand, his smile refusing to vanish as he walked with his head tilted downward a bit to face the grass. I was feeling pretty happy for him, and who could blame the Gooch; The Secret Weapon had taken the lead right out of the gate! But it was only the beginning of the derby, and Jimmy was next up to bat.

            The big man walked out of his dugout with bat in hand and stepped up to the left side of the plate. He then tilted his bat to point the tip up to the sky as he held onto the batting handle with both hands and bent his knees slightly while raising the handle to line it up with his right shoulder. He aimed his head to give me a calm, focused glare that could pierce metal. It would be an understatement to say that the Gooch was scared by the sight that was in front of me. Even so, I took a deep breath and prepared to throw another pitch while nervously thinking to myself;

“ _Its okay Vinny, just keep calm, throw your pitches, and hope like heck that you don’t mess up.”_

Out of terror, I didn’t put too much force into my throw, which turned the pitch into a Slowball down the middle. Easy pickings for the big guy, who effortlessly sent the ball flying down center field and out of the park with one mighty swing of his bat, causing it to bounce on the dusty audience seats. I could see his large smile all the way from the mound, which was oozing with ego-driven confidence, as he kept his eyes on me while repositioning himself to take another swing. With that, I took two more deep breaths to calm my terror down before throwing another pitch. At this point, I felt a little less afraid of him as I threw a slightly faster Slowball that I aimed at the lower-right corner of the strike-zone. Jimmy was ready for this one too, however, for he was able to fiercely smack the ball high into the air, causing it to fly over the right-field barricade and land on the steps that sat between two sections of audience seats. The score had become, much to my dismay, a 2-2 tie. After seeing that happen before my eyes, the Gooch’s fear gave way to annoyance over him getting a chance at taking the lead. So, after taking one more deep breath, I waited for him to ready himself before unleashing a high-speed Heat pitch that targeted the very left side of the strike-zone!

Jimmy, from the stunned look that he had shown on his face as the ball came hurtling towards him, did not expect me to belt out a pitch that fast at that moment. Luckily for him, however, he was able to compose himself in time to make a mean swing for it. As it turns out, he just could not hit it hard enough that time, for he could only make the ball rocket down left-field, ricochet off of the adjacent barricade, and bounce on the tall grass below three times before rolling to a stop on it. A solid hit towards the outfield, but in this match, it counted as strike one. Jimmy’s reaction to not getting the leading run consisted of a short, annoyed grunt as he moved back into position to swing again. For the Gooch, this was proof-positive that Jimmy Knuckles, the bully of eight innocent children, was not invincible, and let me tell you, seeing him fail to get a homerun gave my confidence a powerful boost that really weakened my fear of him. Driven by this confidence, I made it a point to throw a doozy of a Right Hook at the upper-left corner of the strike-zone without a doubt in my mind. Jimmy swung for the ball with gusto, only for him to send it careening down center-field before stopping on the ground, directly in front of the barricade. Strike two for him. Instead of grunting, he reacted by proudly declaring;

“No worries, I got this next pitch in the bag!”

For the next pitch, I decided to go for a Heat that was aimed squarely at the bottom of the strike-zone. I figured it was not too hard for him to hit, and I was right, for he was able bash that ball with enough force to belt it down where the right-field line used to be and over the adjacent barricade. But as we all watched it travel in the air, the Gooch saw that the ball had moved a bit too far to the right as it traveled, allowing it to pass the right side of the yellow foul post. Stephanie had noticed this from her seat as well, for she responded by calling out in a serious tone;

“Foul ball! Foul ball!”

The Gooch agreed with her observation, as the ball did indeed go too far off to the side for it to count as a run. I looked over to our friend, who was watching the events play out from his dugout with a calm demeanor on his face. I could not tell what he thought of the situation, so I turned my head to face Jimmy. He looked annoyed at first, but then he shut eyes for a moment, took a quick breath, and opened them back up as he loudly declared;

“For once Bubbles, I agree with you! I got a foul ball, which makes it strike three!”

The Gooch had initially figured that he would try to bully a run out of a foul ball, so I did not expect him to follow the rules of the match like this at all! As surprised as I was, I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I actively chose not to say anything about it as Jimmy walked back over to his dugout while carrying his bat in his right hand one more. After he took his seat on the dugout bench, it was time for round 2, with The Secret Weapon batting first.

            The two competitors remained neck-in-neck with each other as the match dragged on. Whenever one of them took the lead, the other was quick to tie the score back up. Most of the rounds involved at least one run being earned by each batter. I did my best to pitch fairly to both of them, even though I really wanted to mess with Jimmy. There were a few times when I looked at Stephanie to see how she was doing and I could tell, even from a distance, that she was watching the match with great interest. Heck, there was that one time, during round ten I believe, when I caught her legs bouncing up and down repeatedly while she held on to both sides of her seat with her hands. Clearly, she was visibly invested in the match, anxious to see if The Secret Weapon could best our bully when no one else could! Speaking of the kid, I watched him as he showed more and more joy on his face throughout the match. Obviously, he was having a great time, in spite of the stakes involved. Eventually, we had reached round twelve, and the match could not be closer.

            The score was an incredible 15-15! Steph and the Gooch knew to expect plenty of runs from both Jimmy and our friend, but man, we did not expect so many to be belted out on that night! I made it a point to look at Jimmy from time to time throughout the proceedings, and as the runs added up, his bravado was slowly replaced with visible frustration. I could tell from the angry look that he showed on his face as round twelve had arrived that he had never been challenged like this before. If one were to ask the Gooch, the I would say that deep down, the big guy was in awe of the boy’s skill at bat, he just did not want to admit it at the time. As agreed upon, The Secret Weapon walked up to the plate to take his turn. I looked over at Jimmy in search any sign of foul play on his part. All he was doing, surprisingly, was sitting there on the bench in his dugout, as stiff as statue with his arms crossed and anger all over his face. Feeling relieved, I turned over to our friend as I prepared to start throwing pitches in his direction.

            The first pitch, a solid Heat down the middle, he had smacked towards the outfield, but the ball had landed short of the right-field barricade. Strike one. The second pitch, a Slowball off to the strike-zone’s left side, incredibly, flew past him as he swung for it and missed the ball by a few centimeters. Strike two. Oh man, the Gooch was seriously conflicted by now. I mean, on hand, I had to throw fairly to him, so that I could say that I never cheated for his sake. But on the other hand, I did not want to be the one who struck out my good friend, the first person to have ever stood up against my bully, our bully, at the precise moment when we all needed him to hit the winning run! I looked down at the ground for five seconds as I thought of the conflict that raged within my young mind. I then looked up over at him to see that throughout this entire round, his large smile that could calm anyone’s nerves refused to leave him. Seeing that smile eased my mind enough for the Gooch to make a decision that would stay with me for the rest my life; I chose to throw a challenging third pitch, a left-hook aimed at the top of the strike-zone, out of respect to my friends, because I knew that they would never, ever, want me to cheat in a sport for any reason at all. The Gooch was, and always will be, an honest person, for better and for worse.

            The kid did just as he had practiced for a whole week; he watched the ball as it moved gracefully through the air, waiting for the right moment. Stephanie, Jimmy, and myself watched in silence as it traveled closer and closer to him. Without warning, he swung the bat with all of his strength right when the ball went in close enough for him to reach it. For a moment, from my perspective, it felt like time had slowed down to a crawl to the Gooch, at the moment when the kid was in the middle of his swing, the bat being centimeters away from connecting with the ball. I know that did not actually happen in reality, but it felt like it did to me. During that brief moment, I thought to myself;

“ _What if he lost?”_

What if our friend had worked so hard and devoted so much of his time for the sake of two friends who he hardly even knew, only to fail at the very end? That was a truly terrifying thought to the Gooch, one that, honestly, I think about sometimes to this day…

Thankfully, I did not have to think too much about it that time, as when he had hit the ball with a powerful cracking sound, he poured enough force into the swing to send the ball soaring over the center-field audience seats, eventually landing behind them! I watched that ball land with my mouth hanging wide open in shock and awe. All was silent for ten seconds before I heard Stephanie yell out a cheer that was powered by unbridled joy. Hearing this inspired me to join on the celebration with my own impassioned cheer as I jumped from the mount out of joy while turning over to face the kid with the biggest smile on my face. The Secret Weapon was in winning position! After taking a moment to recollect myself, the Gooch waited for the kid to prepare himself before throwing a solid Heat that I aimed at the bottom of the strike-zone. He swung for it, only to miss. With that third strike, Jimmy could have his turn at bat.

I looked over at big guy to find that his eyes were wide open and his skin was looking seriously pale. His arms were still crossed and his mouth was shut tight. From what I could tell, the big guy was terrified at the thought of losing to a child smaller and younger than him, which only added to my joy as I loudly told him;

“You better give it your best shot, Jimmy! Unless you are scared of the little guy!”

At this point, my fear of Jimmy was so weak, I could barely feel it under my immense happiness. I then heard Stephanie make loud chicken noises as she confidently declared;

“Chicken! Bwack-Bwack-Bwack-Bwack-Bwackaaa!”

His face went from pale white to red with rage, for a moment or two, before he shut his eyes, took three deep breaths, and opened them back up as he got up from his bench to step up to bat. I calmed myself down as we both got into our positions and our friend returned to his dugout without a peep.

“ _Remember Vinny…”,_ I calmly thought to myself as I prepared to throw my pitch;

_“Throw fairly.”_

            The Gooch can say with certainty that he did exactly that, even though The Gooch was once again tempted to cheat in order to make Jimmy lose. I started things off with a Heat down the middle, to remind him that I was playing fairly. He smacked that sucker down left-field, only for it to bounce off the barricade. I then threw a Right-Hook to the very right side of the strike-zone. He made that ball soar too far to the left side; a foul ball. With two strikes on him and his opponent up by one run, I could not blame Jimmy for feeling as frustrated as he looked, for his face was turning a little red again as he took his batting stance. He gave me the angriest glare that I had ever seen him give to anyone, which had strengthened my once weakened fear of him. But this time, and every other time that was to come, my courage was stronger. It was that courage that helped me throw the fastest Heat that I had ever thrown up until that point, which had traveled towards the bottom of the strike-zone. Jimmy Knuckles went for it. It was not an easy pitch to hit for anyone, but he _had_ to go for it, for the sake of not losing the match.

His bat found its mark, allowing him to send the ball skyrocketing down center-field and over the audience seats, bouncing behind them just as our friend’s homerun ball did. The game was tied again, 16-16, which meant that if Jimmy struck out without getting another run, then we would have to go for extra rounds! My nerves caught up to the Gooch in a matter of seconds, prompting me to breath deeply while telling myself;

“ _Keep calm Vinny, just one good pitch is all it takes. You got this!_ ”

My mental self-encouragement helped me bring myself to through a Left-Hook to the lower-right corner of the strike-zone. As I watched that ball make its way towards Jimmy, I prayed to the big boss upstairs that this match was going work out well. Jimmy swung at the ball and… missed! He struck out at the twelfth round with the score tied, which meant that the game would continue! I exhaled a sigh of relief as Jimmy stomped over to his dugout in a furious huff, with The Secret Weapon coming up to take his place at Homeplate.

            From this point on, in accordance with the rules, whoever got the tie-breaking run would win the whole match. So, I knew perfectly well that I had to do my absolute best in order to do my job right. Once the kid took his stance, I decided to give him a challenging pitch for him to take a swing at; a Heat carefully aimed directly at the bottom left corner of the strike-zone. This was one of those pitches that required some darn good accuracy, because it was so close to the corner that if it went even a little wide, it would go outside of the zone, thus it would not count as a strike. This way, Jimmy would not be able to say that I was giving our friend an easy run so late into the game, but at the cost of giving him a pitch that would make him work hard for that winning run. Everyone else in that stadium, myself included, kept our eyes glued on the kid as the ball traveled closer to Homeplate. He waited ever so patiently… and, right when the ball hovered over the plate, he swung the bat onto it with a ferocious cracking sound that echoed throughout the stadium. He made that baby soar so high and far, that it rose through the giant opening in the ceiling with the speed of a race car and flew over the roof, out of anyone’s sight!

            I saw that ball make its incredible journey, but I could not believe it. I understood how the rules for the match worked, but I could not believe it. The Gooch was filled with disbelief and stunned into silence by what I had seen. All was quiet for five seconds. During that time span, my disbelief was quickly overtaken by joy so strong that, after the fifth second had past, it drove me to cry out to the heavens while raising my hands to the night sky;

“ITS OVER!”

I ran over to our friend, our conquering hero, to give him the biggest hug that the Gooch’s young arms could muster. Tears rained from my eyes as I laughed in celebration of this wonderful occasion. When I ran, I saw on the corner of my right eye that Stephanie was running like a bolt of lightning away from the seats towards the nearest path to the tunnel. Shortly after I hugged the kid, Steph darted up to us from said tunnel to hug us both. I could hear her choking back her tears as she exclaimed with a voice that was filled to the brim with happiness;

“Thank you so much! THANK YOU!”

It did not take long for him to join in on the laughter as we all jumped around while locked in our group hug. His opponent, for one glorious minute, was forgotten by me, by all three of us, for we were too darn happy to care about him. After hurting children for months and getting away with it, Jimmy Knuckles had finally been beaten by a child. The Secret Weapon had won!

            After that minute of joyous celebration had past, we released each other from the group hug and turned around to face the bully himself. His back was turned to face us, so I could not see his face. But the Gooch could imagine that he was positively furious, and embarrassed, with himself, so he did not want to show his embarrassment to anyone. His arms were hanging next to his sides and for exactly three seconds, I saw his right hand tighten its grip on his bat’s handle. After that, his grip loosened back to a normal level before he turned back around to look at each of us with an expression on his face that was filled with anger. Slowly, he walked over to us, stomping on the ground with each step that he took. As he did so, he turned his eyes to focus entirely on the kid, who stood between Stephanie and myself. Recognizing this, I immediately moved over to stand between Jimmy and him, with Stephanie, who was to my left, doing the exact same thing. Upon stopping to turn our bodies to face Jimmy’s, we raised our arms to stretch them straight out from our sides, defending our friend just as he did for us. This sight prompted Jimmy to stop and stand just a few inches away from the two of us, and an inch or two more from our friend. I gave that young man an angry look that screamed; “Don’t mess with the Gooch’s friends.” My eyes were locked on to Jimmy’s, for I did not want him to pull a fast one on any of us without me catching him in the act. Five seconds of silence had past before the big guy told us all a single sentence that I will not forget for the rest of my life, in a rough tone that had a mix of anger and resignation within it;

“Like I said before, I am a man who is as good as his word.”

Without another word, he walked past all three of us and into the tunnel. I watched him as he made his exit without even trying to make a scene. Just like that, Jimmy Knuckles was gone, leaving the Gooch feeling both relieved and dumbfounded.

            I turned my head to look at Steph as I explained my confusion to my two friends;

“The Gooch… expected him to at least throw an insult at us before leaving, but… he didn’t. He just left without even calling us a single name!”

Steph looked back at the tunnel as she calmly replied;

“I know, and it’s very unlike him to do this. I mean, have any of you ever heard of a bully who chose to not hurt someone over losing?”

I shook my head to tell her that I had never heard of such a person. I looked at The Secret Weapon to see that he too was shaking his head. I then looked back at Steph to ask her another question, one that was bouncing about in my head ever since the match was made;

“Do you think Jimmy will hold up his end of the deal?”

She looked back at me, shut her eyes in thought for a few seconds, and spoke as she opened them up again;

“I don’t know, Vinny, but I do know this much…”

She giggled softly to herself before finishing with a sly smile on her face;

“That guy is going to find out that at least one adult is on our side.”

She winked with her right eye as I then exclaimed out of sudden realization;

“Oh gosh, I remember now: Greg! He promised that he would deal with Jimmy after the match!”

“Oh yes he did.”, Stephanie uttered with joy in her voice, clearly anticipating what ever it was that her father had in store for him.

She then turned her attention over to the kid, who was looking at each of us with calmness etched upon his face, as she spoke directly to him in a tone that oozed with gratitude, with a truly tender smile, and her eyes lit up with sweet appreciation for his efforts;

“Again, thank you so much for your help. No matter what happens next, I will never forget the day when The Secret Weapon bested our bully.”

He nodded his head as he expressed that lovable smile of his. As much as I was enjoying such a wonderful touching moment, I had yet another question to ask. This one, however, was meant for kid himself, as asked him calmly with a friendly smile to let him know that all was well;

“The Gooch has been fine with you being all quiet and mysterious, out of gratitude for your help of course, but are you sure you're not going to tell us your name?”

            The kid turned his head and body to look all around him, just as he did before, back when we first met. After returning to his previous position, he looked at each of us square in the eyes, for a moment or two, before doing something that neither of us expected to see. He reached into the right-side pocket of his pants with his left hand to pull out a small notebook with sheets of paper that were connected to each other at the top and no binder rings. He then reached into the same pocket again, this time with his right hand, to pull out a NO.2 pencil that looked to have been recently sharpened. He then silently wrote on the front paper, quick as a flash, and put his pencil back where he found it. Without warning, he ripped the paper that he had written on out of the notebook, while being careful to not rip it up. After putting the notebook back into its pocket with his right hand, while holding onto the paper with his left, he then folded it in half from the bottom up, and did it again from the left side to the right. Finally, he handed that folded piece of paper to Stephanie, who slowly took it while looking utterly perplexed. The Gooch was just as confused as she was, but I had a feeling that there was a good reason for our friend’s odd actions. So, I asked him calmly;

“I take it you only want the two of us to read what you wrote, right?”

He nodded his head to signify that I was correct, which prompted me to tell Steph;

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s see what he wants to tell us.”

Stephanie stared at the folded paper for a few seconds before declaring as she attempted to unfold it;

“Why not? This is the least I can do for such a good friend.”

Unfolding the paper was a simple matter, as it did not take long for Steph to do so. Once the deed was done, she aimed it at her face while lowering it far enough down for me to see it too. What was written upon that paper was a single phrase, one that described the boy who would become our greatest friend better than any other;

“I am Pablo.”

I looked over at Pablo, who was revealing a hint of nervousness on his face. After thinking for a moment, I told him the truth with a genuine smile;

“Pablo, eh? Not a bad name.”

I looked over at Steph, who was also smiling, as she declared truthfully;

“Yeah, I like the name, and the guy who has it.”

Pablo’s nervousness morphed into his recognizable smile as he giggled softly out what appeared to the Gooch to be relief. Taking Steph’s words to heart, I then declared with that cool, calm tone that I would eventually use almost all the time;

“‘Nuff said.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus, the Legend of Pablo has begun! 
> 
> I wanted this story to be not just about him, but also about the two kids who he would befriend, and the bully who he would compete against, during the story's events.
> 
> Vinny may have been the witness who provided narration, Pablo may have been the hero, Jimmy may have been the villain, and Stephanie may have been Pablo's teacher, but at the end of the day;
> 
> This is very much a story that those four cooky kids share.
> 
> As for Jimmy himself, something tells me that we haven't seen the last of him...
> 
> The next story is coming soon, hopefully it won't take as long as this one did!


	3. A Stubborn Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pablo's success against Jimmy had strengthened the hope that resides within Stephanie Morgan. Even so, the fear of being ridiculed by bullies still haunts her waking hours. While relaxing with Vinny at the playground one day, she finds that one of her dear friends, Reese Worthington, is dealing with problems of his own. Through her choice to help her friend in his time of need, they may yet find the courage to help each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while and a half! I like to make sure that I got my stories written down properly, which is half the reason for the long wait. The other half being personal business being a time-sink.
> 
> As you can tell from the summary, Pablo's victory has set a number of events into motion, this story being one of them.
> 
> For this tale, we get to spend more time with Backyard Sport's biggest Baseball enthusiast, as well as learn more about one of the smartest kids in the franchise: Reese Worthington.
> 
> How will this talk between two good friends pan out? Read on and find out!

**_A Stubborn Fear_ **

            I almost lost hope. I almost gave up on my believing that Jimmy Knuckles, the bully of many honest children, myself included, could be stopped. That someone could find the guts to stand up to him and get him to stop hurting kids with his cruel words. For those long months when he bullied us, I tried really hard to hold onto that hope, even as it became more and more difficult to keep it from slipping away. There were times when I even considered giving up willingly, but the thought of those other little ones being hurt by him was enough to keep me going each time, albeit barely. Eventually, however, I felt myself reaching the breaking point, and just when I was about ready to give up hope entirely, my dear friend Vinny the Gooch came to me during school one day to give me the kind of news that made my heart soar; a little boy had stood up to Jimmy in defense of Vinny and, I still can’t believe I am saying this, got him to go away!

            As we talked, I learned that apparently this brave new kid was a hard one to find. It seemed to us that he did not go to our school, and The Gooch could not find him anywhere on that day. Even so, I felt a level of happiness that I had not experienced in a long time, not since before Jimmy first reared his ugly head with that stupid trucker hat of his. Vinny was very happy as well, which was always fine by me. I then told him that I would let the other kids know what had happened and sure enough, I did exactly that. I knew the phone-numbers of every single child who Jimmy had bullied, because they were gracious enough to give them to me with their parents’ permission. So, I was able to call each of them to tell them the good news. Since Vinny was a witness to what that little boy had done, I only had to call six people. Here are each of their reactions, with their names being used with their expressed blessings:

**Kimmy Eckman** – “That kid has guts. I like him!”

**Ronnie Dobbs** – “That was really nice of him to save Vinny from that mean old bully!”

**Gretchen Hasselhoff** – “Um, ThewayhestoppedJimmyfromhurtingVinnywithoutthrowingapunchwassupercoolandIreallywanttohaveafriendlikethatoneday, hmm.”

**Pete Wheeler** – “Uh… I really like that someone finally gave that darn Jimmy a hard time. I’m hopin’ that the kid don’t get hurt by ‘im too.”

**Maria Luna** – “Excelente! I am so happy for that brave niño! Niño means ‘little boy’ in Español, by the way.”

**Reese Worthington** – “Most fortuitous! It is about time that someone found the courage to take on that insulting brute of a teenager! When I see that young boy, I will make sure to shake his hand as a show of gratitude for his efforts.”

After making my calls, I decided to check up on Vinny as soon as possible to see if this defender of children would strike again. Turns out, it did not take long for him to do exactly that.

The boy would go on to stand up for Reese Worthington, just as he did for Vinny before. But this time, the situation played out a bit differently; apparently a little girl had caught wind of what the big jerk was up to and decided to tell everyone she could about what was going on. Her choice to spread the word had caused a crowd of young onlookers, kids and teenagers alike, to move over to where Jimmy, Reese, and the boy were at, which prompted the bully to get all shaky in his legs before walking off in a huff. Unfortunately, I was not there when it happened, as I was helping my family at the time. I had found out about what had happened through the resulting gossip that was being spread throughout school and when I did, I felt my heart rise to the clouds above in response to the news! When Vinny came along to tell me his side of the story, I listened closely and promised myself that I would reward that sweet girl with the biggest hug ever. A shame really, that I could not find her, nor could I find Reese in that playground where everything had happened.

            As I would learn later on, all of the kids who were bullied by Jimmy, save for Vinny and myself, had decided to stay away from Playground Commons, out of fear of being troubled by him again. Apparently, even one of my friends had made the same decision, just so that she could avoid being bullied altogether. This did not sit well with me at all, because playgrounds should be safe places for kids to have fun, not places to keep away from out of fear! Well, at least I was able to catch Vinny there during one Sunday afternoon, and much to my joy, I had also managed to meet the courageous hero at last! During our conversation, I made sure to befriend him. I mean, after all the good that he had done, how could I not call him my friend? Unfortunately, however, our talk was interrupted by the bully himself, who decided to challenge the boy to a Homerun Derby match! The deal was that if he won, then Jimmy would swear to never bully him or anyone who he considered to be a friend and he would not skip town. But if Jimmy won, then he could bully anyone he wanted to without being stopped by the kid. Vinny and I could tell that this was a trap, but that boy accepted the challenge anyway. Brave of him to do that for us, for all of the kids who Jimmy had troubled, but it was also a huge risk. He had one week to practice for the match, and he apparently had never watched a Baseball game before, let alone played in one! Luckily for him, and unbeknownst to Jimmy, I happen to be pretty knowledgeable on all things Baseball. But I was also terrified of being found out by Jimmy and made to feel embarrassed over having such knowledge. After a bit of well-meaning encouragement on Vinny and the kid’s part, I decided to offer my help to him. I was still really scared, but more than that, I wanted to get back at Jimmy and help my friends when they needed me.

            I am glad that I made that choice, because if I didn’t, then I would not have had the pleasure of training the young boy and seeing him defeat Jimmy in his own game! Watching him get that winning homerun… wow, that made me cry so much on that night. The tears were born from happiness and that sweet release of months-worth of tension that was born from fear and anger. Fear of Jimmy and anger over what he had done to us kids, to me. Those two feelings, for a brief, yet wonderful moment, were gone as I hugged both Vinny and our friend at the same time. It was… glorious. After the celebrating ended and Jimmy left the stadium, the kid who beat him decided to give us his name before leaving as well; Pablo. I will never forget that name for as long as I live.

Two days had passed since then, and Playground Commons could not have been more peaceful. Much to my shock, Jimmy seemed to have decided to honor his end of the deal by not bullying Pablo or any of his friends, which included Vinny and yours’ truly. Heck, neither the Gooch, the rest of Jimmy’s targets, or myself had seen or heard from the jerk ever since the match ended. Needless to say, I was quick to take full advantage of the new situation, and I was not alone. Vinny made it a point to join me on each peaceful day, so that we could talk about stuff, relax at his favorite bleacher, play around on the monkey bars, and other fun things that kids tend to do on nice days. It was during the third day, as the two of us sat on that same bleacher, that I had noticed that another familiar face had returned to the playground; Reese Worthington.

Reese was one of the eight kids, Vinny and myself included, who were bullied by Jimmy before Pablo had stepped in. Whenever the brute decided to switch to other targets after getting bored, Reese was frequently the next one on his hitlist, if you will. The little guy was one of the first of us who I chose to befriend. Having the same bully certainly helped make that a bit easier on us both, really. Judging from him staring at the sand below him as he walked in a slow, melancholy fashion, I figured that something was bothering him. So, I decided to tell Vinny to watch my seat for a bit as I got up off of the bleacher and made my way over to the visibly troubled kid.

Reese was a short child, roughly Vinny’s size, who had blond hair and was wearing one of his white dress shirts, a yellow tie, brown shorts, and white sneakers; the kind of outfit that he typically likes to wear on nice days like this one. I walked over to his right side, which prompted him to stop moving, raise his head up while turning it to face me, and give me a polite, yet solemn greeting, with his blue eyes and the frown on his face giving off the impression that he was not feeling happy at all;

“A pleasant day to you, Stephanie.”

He was not hiding how he felt at all, or at least, he was not doing a good job at it. So, with concern in my voice and heart, I greeted him back;

“A pleasant day to you too, Reese. Now, what is eating at you?”

He turned his head over to his left side to look away from me while softly declaring;

“Nothing. Nothing is eating at me…”

I shook my head and sighed as I got down on my right knee and told him honestly;

“Reese, I can tell that something is bothering you, and you can tell me about it, if you want to.”

            Up until this point, I had been helping the rest of Jimmy’s targets, including Reese, come to terms with what he had done to them, or at least cope with their experiences. So, this was not the first time that I had to gently convince one of them to open up about how they were feeling, and I figured in my head that this would not be the last as I waited for Reese to respond to my words. I would not dare force him to open up, so I made sure to give him the chance to decline the offer, if nothing else but to ease his worries. He aimed his head to look back at me, his eyes locking on to mine as he sighed before speaking in a soft tone;

“I had heard about that Homerun Derby match, about how that kid had beaten Jimmy.”

I could not help but smile as the memory of that event played out vividly in my head. I listened closely to Reese’s words as he continued;

“I was overjoyed when I heard about that, simply because of the fact that Jimmy got outright embarrassed by someone smaller than him in a sporting event. What’s bothering me is…”

He looked straight down at the ground, clearly showing that he was very hesitant to finish expressing his thought. I placed my right hand on his left shoulder as I gave him some positive encouragement;

“It’s okay Reese,” I sweetly uttered with that smile from earlier still on my face as I continued;

“You can tell me about it, I won’t laugh.”

He slowly raised his head back up and asked me with sadness in his eyes;

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Without hesitation, I tell him with a friendly giggle;

“I promise.”

As a small smile grew on his face for a moment before turning back into a frown, he told me the truth;

“Jimmy’s disappearance from the playground has helped me feel safe here again. But… I still can’t help but be afraid of making friends with the teenagers.”

My smile vanished as I immediately understood what he was getting at. I kept my mouth shut as he continued;

“I know, not every teenager is a mean-spirited jerk. But I am scared that if I try to make friends with one of them, they could turn out to be like that brute.”

His breathing became audibly shaky as he exclaimed in a pained voice;

“I do not wish to go through that again!”

            Right then and there, I stretched my arms out to my sides to silently ask him if he wanted a hug. Reese looked at me for three seconds, his eyes becoming increasingly watery with each passing second, before running up to me to wrap his arms around my waist. I gently wrapped my arms around his in return as he broke down and cried his young heart out. This was just one example of the pain that Jimmy had brought to kids, and I will admit, Reese was not the first one to shed tears over what that bully had done, and as I held him gently, I had a feeling that he would not be the last. I gave him all the time he needed to cry, a whole two minutes if I recall correctly. After that, we got out of the hug and looked each other in the eye as I got back up on my feet. The young boy appeared to be calmer now as I told him sweetly;

“I get it man. I don’t want to go through that situation either.”

I consciously clenched my fists as I then noted in a solemn voice;

“No one deserves to be bullied by anyone, for any reason.”

Reese nodded his head in agreement while stating plainly;

“I agree with you, Stephanie. Which leads me to wonder why Jimmy would be so cruel to children. I mean, what does he gain from that?”

“Heck if I know, buddy.”, I told him in response while drawing blanks in my head over the question. Just then, an idea came to my head, one that I liked very much. I knew that the subject that I wanted to talk to him about would be difficult for me to work though, but I wanted to take the opportunity to help Reese in my own way. So, I took a breath and asked him;

“Would you like to hear a story?”

His eyes lit up out of excitement as his smile returned with a vengeance;

“Oh yes please!”, he excitedly exclaimed;

“I do love to hear a good story, or read one if it is in written form.”

I giggled a little over the sight of my friend being genuinely happy before telling him;

“Now then, this is a story about a young girl and her bully.”

With Reese listening closely, I told him the tale as clearly as could, even though it did hurt me to tell it.

            “A while back, there was a young girl who was smart, sweet, and did not know of cruelty. She loved to play in a playground, very much like the one that we are standing in right now. She played there every day, without a care in the world. Each day, she would bring with her a single pack of bubblegum. Oh, that girl _loved_ to blow bubbles with her gum, and thus she did this every day. One day, she came face-to-face with this tall, older teenager who seemed to look friendly enough to the girl. With a big smile on her face, she greeted him as a friend. The teenager, however, greeted her as a bully. He insulted her, called her mean names, and made her cry multiple times. He even made fun of her love for blowing bubbles by giving her a nickname that was meant to make her feel like crud over it. Needless to say, he made her feel horrible and…”

“and…”, I was trying very hard to finish my sentence while a keeping straight face, but the pain in my heart made it very challenging for me to do so. Reese, thankfully, decided to attempt to finish it for me by asking in a soft tone that gave off a hint of sadness;

“Worthless?”

That one word was enough for him to get my attention as I looked right at him, surprised that he was able to guess what I was thinking of correctly.

“Yes… worthless.”, I said to him calmly. I took another breath to compose myself before continuing the story.

“That poor girl learned of cruelty on that day, thanks to her bully, and it was also thanks to him that she eventually stopped taking her bubblegum to the playground, out of fear of being ridiculed for blowing bubbles by that jerk. He tormented her on each day she went to that playground, without fail. She wanted to tell her father about him, but she was afraid that she would get in trouble for speaking up about such a thing. Oh, she quietly cried in her room every night while wondering if there was anyone who could be her friend. Eventually, however, she found one.”

As I told the tale, Reese’s face started to express a frown. That frown became more and more apparent over time. But upon hearing that last sentence, that frown quickly turned into a hopeful smile, his eyes lighting up a second time as I went on.

“While walking through her school’s hallway to grab lunch, she bumped into this little boy with a nice dress shirt and tie. Literally! She apologized to him for the accident, while also expecting him to get upset at her over it. But he did not! Instead, he gave off a gentle smile and politely accepted her apology. Feeling relieved that she was not going to get in trouble, she thanked him with a smile of her own. The boy then offered to walk with her to lunch. The girl was afraid of what might happen, afraid of being hurt again, but his smile and polite behavior helped her find the courage to say yes. The two then walked together over to the cafeteria to enjoy a good lunch. Oh, those two had hit it off with ease! They introduced themselves, made lots of jokes, told interesting stories to each other, and just had a darn good time. The girl soon became very happy, for she had found a good friend when she needed one the most.”

Reese laughed a little during this part, as did I. But there was more of the story for me to tell, and not all of it was positive.

“As the pair of pals talked, however, the boy’s smile began to fade as he looked at his half-eaten lunch with sadness in his eyes. The girl would not have any of that, though! Determined to help her friend in any way she could, she asked him gently;

“Why are so sad, friend?”

He looked back at her and, after a few seconds of silence, he told her softly with fear in his voice;

“I shouldn’t. You’ll think I’m lying.”

Hearing this threw her for a loop. She did not expect her new friend to say something like this at all! Even so, she would not be stopped so easily. So, she decided to tell him with honesty in her heart;

“I’ll listen to you, and I don’t think you’ll lie.”

Her kind words clearly got through to him, for the boy’s eyes slowly started to tear up. His breath began to shake quite a bit. Before long, he slowly uttered three words that the girl would remember forever;

“I… was… bullied!”

He then held on to her as tightly as his little arms could manage, almost pouncing her! The girl was frozen in place, frozen out of shock over what she had just heard. For five seconds, her mind was stuck on one thought. It was this thought that she whispered to her friend on the sixth second as she slowly and gently wrapped her arms around him;

“I am not the only one… I am not alone… and you are not alone either.”

It was a moment that neither of those kids, those two friends, would ever forget.”

            By the time I had finished telling my tale, I was barely able to hold my tears in my eyes as I looked Reese dead in the eye. They did not come from sadness or happiness, I just felt like I was… releasing that tension that Jimmy’s antics had created within me all over again, this time by telling that story. It was the kind of tension that hurt like heck to hold on to and, apparently, could come back to haunt a person when they least expect it. No part of my body was tense as Reese gave off a sly smile while speaking in a soft tone, his eyes also filled with tears once again;

“Those kids were us, right?”

I gently wiped my tears off of my face with my right arm as I admitted to him with a slight laugh;

“Pretty much.”

As he took care of his own tears right along with me, my smart friend then noted;

“Well, at least I now know where that nickname came from. But I am confused, Stephanie.”

We both lowered our right arms to look at each other again as he explained calmly with his right eyebrow raised slightly;

“I know that story, because we both have lived through the parts that we played in it. So, why tell it to me now?”

I smiled sweetly at Reese as I answered his question;

“I figured that you could use a reminder of a fact that two very good friends of mine helped me remember; you are never alone.”

Those words could not be truer to my heart. Even as I tried to be there for the other kids who Jimmy bullied, there were times when I forgot such an important lesson. Vinny and Pablo, they helped me remember it, and I owe them so much for that. I got back down on my right knee as I continued to give my heartfelt advice;

“If you ever need help with your problems, or if you just want someone to talk to, you got at least one friend to turn to for all of that.”

After I finished speaking my mind, I reached out to my friend with my right hand as a friendly offering of support. Reese, with a warm smile, slowly took my hand with his. As we shook hands, he made it a point to enthusiastically tell me something that caught me by surprise;

“Thank you, my friend! Honestly, I think ‘Bubbles’ is a cool nickname!”

Needless to say, I was stunned by his words! Heck, it took me almost five seconds to stop jumbling my words around before I could utter in a shocked and nervous voice;

“C-cool?!”

“Yes!”, Reese exclaimed as he let go of my now shaking right hand;

“I mean, you enjoy bubblegum, I enjoy bubblegum, and I find being able to blow bubbles with bubblegum to be quite impressive.”

I had to shut my eyes and take two deep breaths before being able to think about what I had just heard come out of that well-meaning kid’s mouth;

_“That stupid nickname… cool… I never thought of it that way before…”_

I chose to say nothing in response, because honestly, I could not even think of what to say. But I knew one thing; Reese Worthington was being nice to me. So, I silently thanked him by giving him a genuine smile, a gesture that I hoped he would appreciate. His face began to express a frown as he then asked me;

“What about you? Are you afraid of the big kids too?”

            I knew that question would come up from the moment I decided to talk to Reese, but I was ready for it. With a solemn sigh and a serious frown of my own, I told him honestly;

“I am just as afraid of befriending the big kids as you are, Reese. But…”

My frown grew into yet another smile as I finished confidently;

“I think it will be easier on us both, if we face that fear together.”

Now it was his turn to smile as he nodded his head once and noted cheerfully;

“A most splendid idea, Stephanie! Fear is quite the stubborn feeling, and I am, in all honesty, quite tired of being bothered by it.”

I could not help but laugh a little at his words before telling him;

“You and me both, pal!”

We both had a good laugh for about five to ten seconds before calming down. An idea then popped into my brain;

_“Maybe asking him about his favorite hobbies could help him figure out how to solve our shared problem. At the very least, it might improve his mood a bit more.”_

With that thought in mind, I asked him with care;

“So… what are your favorite hobbies? I imagine you might find a friend or two who likes them.”

Apparently, I had him at ‘hobbies’, for his eyes lit up to the point that they almost sparkled upon hearing the word. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gleefully explained;

“Oh, I most certainly _love_ to play my trombone! Mind you, I am not very good at it yet. But I am determined to keep practicing with the brass instrument, as I want to be able to play songs really well with it!”

“That is awesome, Reese!”, I exclaimed out of genuine support for Reese and his lovely hobby. I enjoyed listening to music from time to time myself, so the fact that one of my friends could play an instrument was pretty cool to me. The kid was not done yet, however, as he then asked me a question that, honestly, I really should have seen coming from a mile away;

“Which leads me to wonder, Stephanie; what are your favorite hobbies?”

            My happiness was overtaken by fear and nervousness within a matter of seconds upon hearing that question. Those two feelings were strong enough together to make me freeze in place from head to toe, my face still holding that smile from earlier, even though it probably looked pretty fake thanks to my body freezing up on me. I recognized what had happened and was quick to take slow, deep breaths to relax my muscles, which were feeling quite tense. As I tried to compose myself, my mind was racing with one fear-induced thought after another;

_“My hobbies?! I only have the one! Should I tell him about it? What would he think of me loving Baseball? He wouldn’t laugh at me over it. Right? He is my friend, I can trust him, right?! What if he makes fun of me over it? What if I lose my friend over it?”_

Upon noticing that last thought in particular, I quickly moved my hands up to my cheeks to give them a light, but firm, tap to bring myself back to Earth out of sheer instinct. As I did this, I thought to myself;

_“Get it together, girl! Remember what Dad taught you; when your mind is racing…”_

I slowly lowered my hands back down to my sides, closed my eyes, and took another breath that was slower and deeper than the previous ones. I deliberately tuned into how the breath felt as I finished my thought;

_“Focus on your breath to calm it down, so that you can think straight.”_

Doing all of that was enough to ease my mind, which prompted me to open my eyes back up to see that Reese was looking at me with both curiosity and a hint of worry in his eyes. Seeing the sight before me, and experiencing the peace of a quieter mind, drove me to make a choice that, for me, was both brave and terrifying;

_“I’m going to tell him. Four of the people in my life did not hurt me over this, I might as well go for five-for-five.”_

For the entire time that I knew him, Reese Worthington had shown to me that he was a sweet, respectable friend. I felt, as I got down on my right knee once more, that he was not the type of person who would be mean to me over my hobby. That feeling persisted as I moved my face up to his right ear and told him in a frightened, slightly high-pitched whisper that was filled with racked nerves;

“… Baseball.”

When Reese saw me get down on my knee, he seemed to recognize what I was going to do, for he tilted his head slightly to his left to give me room to reach his right ear. I could always count on him being so darn observant. After giving him my answer, I moved my head back to look at him carefully while waiting for his response. I did not have to wait long, however, for his smile came back with a vengeance as he noted with polite cheer;

“Ah, I see that you too are a fan of sports!”

My eyes grew wide in shock as he continued;

“I am more of a casual fan at best, as I tend to catch a match or two when I am able. Academics and a social life can take up much of a person’s time, after all.”

My shock quickly gave way to joy and relief as the urge to bombard him with oodles of Baseball trivia came rushing through my being, like the audience in a Baseball match doing the wave! It took all of my willpower to contain that urge within me, to ride that wave until it left me. I figured that this was not the time or place for me to, as Vinny would put it, ‘blab about my favorite sport ever for hours on end’. With a laugh that expressed my relief, I softly suggested to him;

“We can talk about that hobby another time, okay?”

Reese nodded his head in agreement before declaring confidently;

“Of course, my friend. So then, let us discuss how we are going to tackle our shared fear, shall we?”

“That was just what I was thinking, Reese.”, I calmly admitted while feeling pretty confident as well. Opening up about a secret hobby can do that for a person.

            After thinking for a moment, I suggested to him;

“It might be a good idea to start making more friends who are at least close to our ages. That way, we can work on our fear of befriending teenagers and get a lot of friends who we can turn to for support at the same time.”

Reese’s eyes lit up once more as he exclaimed;

“That is a sound idea to me!”

_“The first idea that came to my head, and he likes it!”,_ I thought excitedly to myself as a question popped into my brain;

“Do you know any kid like that?”, I asked him calmly.

He grabbed his chin with his right hand to think for a few seconds before noting;

“Well, there is this one girl who I met yesterday afternoon, as I was walking to my house.”

“Awesome, Reese!”, I exclaimed in response;

“What do you know about her?”

He shut his eyes as he explained what he knew in his typical polite, deliberate manner;

“From our short conversation, I could discern three key facts about her. One, she is slightly taller than me, but her age is still unknown. Two, she has an older brother who I could potentially befriend if I am careful. Three…”

He paused and opened his eyes to look back at me with calm seriousness being expressed by his face before finishing;

“I only talked with her once, and yet I could easily tell that she has a considerably big mouth.”

I laughed with confidence as I explained to him;

“That is just fine with me pal. Are you going to see her again?”

“Yes, actually.”, he noted with a hint of excitement in his voice;

“During our chat, she invited me to visit her home tomorrow. Not today, mind you, since she is busy right now.”

I smiled excitedly before telling him sweetly;

“You did good Reese, even without knowing how old she could be.”

“You have my thanks, Stephanie.”, he told me out of gratitude before asking;

“Would you like to come along with me?”

“I would love that, but you might want to warn her about you bringing a friend to her house, if you can.”, I made clear to him, as I did not want to be rude to someone who could actually be our new friend. Reese suddenly looked seriously nervous as he slowly admitted softly;

“I… did not get her phone number. I can’t blame her really, as we had only just met. So, unless I can catch her before arriving at her household… you will be a surprise guest to her.”

I gave him a quick thumbs up before responding with certainty;

“Its okay, I’ll make sure to apologize to her for the inconvenience.”

“Thank you, friend. I am sure it will not be too much trouble.”, Reese noted with a small nod. With that, the two of us walked back over to Vinny, who was still sitting on his bleacher while drinking his juice and looking positively cool in his glasses. As we walked side by side, with Reese to my right, I declared to him with confidence oozing from my voice;

“You say that she has a big mouth? Please, I can handle a girl like her.”

I was not entirely wrong, since I had successfully dealt a few big mouthed kids in the past. But he was not having any of my crud, for he told me with honesty and slyness in his voice;

“I can say with certainty that you have never met a girl like Angela Delvecchio.”

For the sake of being perfectly honest, I will say this; that girl was going to prove to us both just how right Reese was about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a MUCH shorter tale than the last one! Hey, 'El Arma Secreta' may have been long by design and necessity, but can you blame me for poking fun at myself? ;)
> 
> We have learned much from this story, including the origins of a certain nickname, Reese's love for playing a certain instrument, and a little more detail into just how much pain Jimmy had wrought. We have also learned the names of all of the other kids who Jimmy had hurt before Pablo stepped in and the fact that Steph has been trying to help them repair the damage that was done to them.
> 
> Oh, and you all can make a very good guess as to who's story I am writing for next, just by reading the ending!
> 
> Sugar Pop and Vec are waiting in the wings! Will Stephanie be able to handle Angela's mannerisms? Will Reese catch heat for bringing a friend without telling her? Will Tony's ego drive them all up a wall?
> 
> Good things come to those who are patient. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> This space to be filled once the final chapter of Act 1 is released.


End file.
